The page of the Duke of Savoy

THE
PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

20

"HAVE YOU THE WICK?" ASKED THE ONE WHO CARRIED THE LANTERN

Dumas, Vol. Twenty

THE WORKS OF

ALEXANDRE DUMAS

IN THI RTY VOLUMES

THE PAGE OF THE
DUKE OF SAVOY

VOLUME ONE

ILLUSTRATED WITH DRAWINGS ON WOOD BY
EMINENT FRENCH AND AMERICAN ARTISTS

0 NEW YORK

.\P. F. COLLIEF

M CM I

R4AND SON

i

11

CONTENTS

FIRST PART

PAGB

I. WHAT A MAN, IF PLACED ON THE HIGHEST
TOWER OF HESDIN-FERT, MIGHT HAVE SEEN
ON THE 5TH OF MAY, 1555, AT ABOUT TWO
O'CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON .... 5
II. THE ADVENTURERS 12

III. IN WHICH THE HEADER MAKES THE MOST AM-

PLE ACQUAINTANCE WITH THE HEROES WE
HAVE INTRODUCED TO HIM . . . .24

IV. THE DEED OF PARTNERSHIP . . . .34
V. COUNT WALDECK 45

VI. THE JUSTICIARY 54

VII. HISTORY AND KOMANCE ..... 66

VIII. SQUIRE AND PAGE 81

IX. LEONE-LEONA 90

X. THE THREE MESSAGES 104

XL ODOARDO MARAVIGLIA 119

XII. WHAT PASSED IN THE DUNGEON OF THE FOR-
TRESS OF MILAN ON THE NIGHT OF THE 14TH
AND 15TH OF NOVEMBER, 1534 . . . 129

XIII. THE DEMON OF THE SOUTH .... 143

XIV. IN WHICH CHARLES V. KEEPS THE PROMISE

MADE TO HIS SON DON PHILIP . . .155

XV. AFTER THE ABDICATION 182

(D— Vol. 20

CONTENTS

SECOND PART

PAGB

I. THE COURT OF FRANCE . ... 195

II. THE KING'S HUNT . .... 209

III. CONSTABLE AND CARDINAL .... 224

IV. WAR . 238

V. IN WHICH THE EEADER FINDS HIMSELF AGAIN

IN A COUNTRY HE KNOWS SOMETHING OF . 255

VI. SAINT-QUENTIN 264

VII. THE ADMIRAL KEEPS HIS WORD . . . 278

VIII. THE TENT OF THE ADVENTURERS . . . 288

IX. A FIGHT . . .296

X. M. DE THELIGNY . . . .307

XI. THE AWAKING OF M. LE CONNETABLE . . 316

XII. THE ESCALADE . 324

THE

PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

FIRST PART

WHAT A MAN", IF PLACED ON THE HIGHEST TOWER OF
HESDIN-FERT, MIGHT HAVE SEEN ON THE 5TH OF
MAY, 1555, AT ABOUT TWO O'CLOCK IN THE AFTER-
NOON

LET us at once transport, without further preface or
preamble, those of our readers who do not fear
to take a leap of three centuries across the past in
our company, into the presence of men we would have
them know, and into the midst of events we would
have them witness.

The time is the 5th of May, of the year 1555. Henry II.
is reigning over France; Mary Tudor over England; Charles
Y. over Spain, Germany, Flanders, Italy, and the two Indies
• — that is to say, over a sixth part of the world.

The scene opens in the neighborhood of the little town
of Hesdin-Fert, which Emmanuel Philibert, Prince of Pied-
mont, has lately rebuilt, intending it to take the place of
Hesdin-la-Yieux, captured by him last year, and razed to
the ground. So you see we are travelling in that part of old
France which was then called Artois, and which is known
to-day as the department of the Pas -de- Calais.

We say of old France, because Artois did actually be-
come a portion of the patrimony of our kings under Phi-
lippe-Auguste, the conqueror of Saint- Jean- d' Acre and
Bouvines; but, though it formed a part of France in

(5)

6 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

1180, and was given by Saint Louis to his younger
brother, Robert, in 1237, it afterward lapsed, somehow
or other, into the hands of three women — Mahaud, Jeanne
L, and Jeanne II. — thus falling under the control of three
different houses. Then, with Marguerite, sister of Jeanne
II. and daughter of Jeanne I., it passed to Comte Louis de
Male, whose daughter brought it, together with the coun-
ties of Flanders and Nevers, into the house of the Dukes
of Burgundy.

Finally, after the death of Charles the Bold, Mary of
Burgundy, the last heiress of the gigantic name and im-
mense possessions of her father, made, on the day she mar-
ried Maximilian, son of the Emperor Frederick III., both
name and possessions part and parcel of the domains of the
house of Austria, in which they were swallowed up, as a
river is swallowed up in the ocean.

It was a great loss for France, for Artois is a fine and
rich province. Consequently, for three years, with varying
fortunes and unforeseen results, Henry II. and Charles Y.
have been struggling face to face, and foot to foot, the one
to regain, the other to keep it.

During* the furious war in which the son encountered the
old enemy of the father, and, like the father, was to have
his Marignano and Pavia, each had his good and bad days,
his victories and defeats. France had seen the army of
Charles Y. driven in disorder from the siege of Metz, and
had taken Marienbourg, Bouvines and Dinant; the Empire,
on the other hand, had stormed Therouanne and Hesdin,
and, furious at its defeat before Metz, had burned the one,
and levelled the other to the ground.

We have compared Metz to Marignano, and the compari-
son is not exaggerated. An army of fifty thousand infantry
and fourteen thousand cavalry, decimated by cold and dis-
ease, had vanished like a mist, leaving as the sole trace of
its existence ten thousand dead, two thousand tents and a
hundred and twenty cannon!

So great was the demoralization that the fugitives did

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not even try to defend themselves. Charles of Bourbon
was pursuing a body of Spanish cavalry; the captain who
commanded it halted and rode straight up to the hostile
leader.

"Prince, duke, or simple gentleman," he said, "or what-
ever else you be, if you are fighting for glory, seek it else-
where; for to-day you are butchering men too feeble to fly,
even, far less to resist you. ' '

Charles of Bourbon sheathed his sword, and ordered his
men to do the same; and the Spanish captain and his troop
continued their retreat without being further troubled by
them.

Charles V. was very far from imitating such clemency.
When Therouanne was taken, he ordered it to be delivered
up to pillage and razed to the ground. Not only were the
private houses destroyed, but even the churches, monaster-
ies, and hospitals ; not a vestige of a wall was left standing,
and that there might not be one stone left on another, the
inhabitants of Flanders and Artois were called in to scatter
all that remained.

The summons was eagerly obeyed. The garrison of The-
rouanne had been a thorn in the side of the people around,
and they flocked to it, armed with spades, hammers and
pickaxes, which they plied with such goodwill that the
city disappeared like Saguntum under the feet of Hannibal,
or Carthage before the breath of Scipio.

Hesdin was treated in the same way as Therouanne.

But, in the meanwhile, Emmanuel Philibert had been
named commander-in-chief of the troops of the Empire in
the Low Countries, and, if he could not save Therouanne,
he was at least able to rebuild Hesdin.

He had accomplished this immense work in a few months,
and a new city sprang up as if by enchantment, a quarter of
a league from the old. This new city, planted in the middle
of the swamps of the Mesnil, on the banks of the Canche,
was so well fortified that it excited the admiration of Yauban
a hundred and fifty years after, although, during the course

8 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

of these one "hundred and fifty years the system of fortifica-
tion had entirely changed.

Its founder called it Hesdin- 7^; that is to say, he had
joined, in order to compel the new city to remember its ori-
gin, these four letters to its name, F. E. E. T., given with
the white cross by the Emperor of Germany, after the siege
of Ehodes, to Amadeus the Great, thirteenth count of Savoy;
they signified: Fortitude ejus Rhodum tenuit, which means,
"His valor saved Ehodes. "

But this was not the only miracle wrought by the pro-
motion of the young general to whom Charles V. had just
confided his army. Thanks to the rigid discipline which
he established, the unhappy country, which for four years
had been the theatre of war, was beginning to breathe; the
severest orders were given to prevent pillaging and maraud-
ing; every officer guilty of disobedience was disarmed and
imprisoned in his tent for a longer or shorter period, in
sight of the whole army, and every private, taken in the
act, was hanged.

The result was that, as hostilities had very nearly ceased
on both sides, during the winter of 1554 and 1555, the last
four or five months seemed to the inhabitants of Artois,
when compared with the years that had elapsed between
the siege of Metz and the reconstruction of Hesdin, some-
thing like a golden age.

There was still, now and then, some castle burned here
and there, some farm pillaged, or house plundered, either
by the French, who held Abbeville, Doullens and Montreuil-
sur-Mer, and who ventured on excursions into the enemy's
territory, or by the incorrigible marauders, reiters and gyp-
sies who hovered on the outskirts of the imperial army; but
Emmanuel Philibert was so successful in clearing the country
of the French, and dealt such rough justice to his own soldiers
that these catastrophies were becoming daily more rare.
Such, then, was the condition of the province of Artois, and
especially in the neighborhood of Hesdin- Fert, on the day
when our story opens; that is to say, the 5th of May, 1555.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 9

But after giving our readers a rapid sketch of the moral
and political state of the country, it remains for us, in order
to complete the picture, to give them an idea of its material
aspect — an aspect that has totally changed since that period,
thanks to the invasions of manufactures and the improve-
ments in agriculture.

In order to accomplish this difficult task, and revive a
past that has almost vanished, let us try to depict the scene
which would meet the gaze of a spectator standing with his
back to the sea on the loftiest tower of Hesdin, and having
under his eyes the horizon, extending in a semicircle from
the northern extremity of the little chain of hills which
hides Bethune, to the last southern bluff's of the same chain
at the foot of which Doullens rises.

He would have first, in front of him, advancing in a point
toward the banks of the Canche, the thick and gloomy forest
of Saint- Pol- sur-Ternoise, whose vast green foliage, spread
like a mantle over the shoulders of the hills, continued until
its borders were dipped in the sources of the Scarpe, which
is to the Scheldt what the Moselle is to the Rhine.

To the right of this forest, and, as a consequence, to the
left of the observer we are imagining placed on the loftiest
tower of Hesdin, at the back of the plain, sheltered by the
same hills that bound the horizon, the villages of Enchin
and Fruges indicated, by the bluish clouds of smoke which
enveloped them like a transparent mist or translucent veil,
that the chilly natives of these northern provinces had not
yet bid adieu, in spite of the appearance of the first days of
spring, to their kitchen fires, those jovial and comforting
friends of the days of winter.

In front of these two villages, and not unlike a half-
distrustful sentinel, who, though he has ventured to leave
the forest, still thinks it better to keep close to its border,
rose a pretty little dwelling, half chateau and half farm,
called the Parcq.

A .road, which shimmered like a gold ribbon on the
green robe of the plain, might be seen stretching for some

10 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

distance from the entrance to the farm, and then dividing
into two branches, the one running straight to Hesdin, the
other skirting the forest and connecting the dwellers in
the Parcq with the villages of Frevent, Auxy-le- Chateau,
and Nouvion in Ponthieu.

The plain, extending from these three places to Hesdin,
formed the basin opposite the one we have just described;
that is to say, it was situated to the left of the basin of
the forest of Saint- Pol, and, consequently, to the right of
the imaginary spectator who has been our cicerone so far.

It was the most remarkable part of the landscape, not
by any means on account of the natural features of the
ground, but because of the fortuitous circumstances that
gave it animation at the present moment.

In truth, while the opposite plain was covered with
ripening harvests, this was almost entirely hidden by the
camp of the Emperor Charles Y.

This camp, surrounded by ditches, and hemmed in by
palisades, included an entire city, not of houses, but of tents.

From the centre of these tents rose the imperial pavilion
of Charles V., like Notre Dame de Paris in the Cite", like
the palace of the popes in Avignon, or like a three-decker
in the midst of the crested waves of the ocean. At its four
corners floated four standards, one of which ought to have
sufficed human ambition: the standard of the Empire, the
standard of Spain, the standard of Kome, and the standard
of Lombardy; for this hero, this conqueror, this victor, as
he was called, had been crowned four times — at Toledo,
with the crown of diamonds, as King of Spain and the
Indies; at Aix-la-Chapelle, with the crown of silver, as
Emperor of Germany; and, in fine, at Bologna, with the
golden crown, as King of the Romans, and the iron crown,
as King of the Lombards. And when an attempt was made
to have his coronation take place at Rome and Milan in-
stead of Bologna, when it was shown to him that the brief
of Pope Stephen forbade the golden crown to be taken from
the Vatican, and the decree of the Emperor Charlemagne

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 11

prohibited the iron crown from leaving Monza, the haughty
reply of this conqueror of Frangois I. and Luther and Soli-
man was that it was his custom not to run after crowns, but
to have crowns run after him.

And note well that these four standards were surmounted
by his own standard, which pictured the Pillars of Hercules
no longer as the limits of the Old World, but as the gateway
of the New, and flung forth to all the winds of heaven this
ambitious device, grown more portentously large by its very
mutilation, Plus ultra !

At about fifty yards from the emperor's pavilion stood
the tent of the commander- in-chief, Emmanuel Philibert, not
distinguishable from those of the other captains, except that
it bore two standards: one bearing the arms of Savoy — a sil-
ver cross on a ground gules, with these four letters, whose
meaning we have already explained, F. E. E. T. ; and the
other, his own private arms, representing a hand raising to
heaven a trophy composed of lances, swords and pistols, with
this device, Spoliatis arma supersunt; that is to say, "Arms
are still left to the despoiled."

The camp, which these two tents overlooked, was divided
into four quarters, in the midst of which crept the river,
crossed by three bridges. The first quarter was intended
for the Germans; the second for the Spaniards; the third
for the English. The fourth contained the park of artillery,
entirely renewed since the defeat of Metz, and raised to the
number of a hundred and twenty cannons and fifteen bom-
bards, by the addition of the pieces taken from the French
at Therouanne and Hesclin.

On the breech of those taken from the French, the em-
peror had engraved his two favorite words, Plus ultra !
Behind the cannons and bombards were ranged, in three
lines, the caissons and wagons containing the military
stores; sentinels with drawn swords, but without arque-
buse or pistol, were there to see that no one approached
these . volcanoes, which a single spark would make burst
forth in flame.

12 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Other sentinels were stationed outside the inclosure.

In the streets of the camp, regulated like those of a city,
thousands of men were moving about with military activity,
tempered, nevertheless, by German gravity, Spanish pride,
and English moroseness.

The sun was glinting on all these arms, which sent back
his rays in flashes; the wind played with all these standards
and banners and pennons, furling and unfurling their silky
folds and brilliant colors at its own sweet will.

This activity and noise, which always ruffle the surface
of multitudes and of oceans, formed a striking contrast to
the silence and solitude on the other side of the plain, where
the sun only lighted up the shifting mosaic of the harvests,
then at different stages of maturity, and where the wind
stirred those rustic flowers which young girls delight to
weave into purple and azure garlands wherewith to adorn
themselves on Sundays.

And now that we have devoted the first chapter of our
book to a description of what would have met the eyes of
an observer stationed on the highest tower of Hesdin-Fert at
any time during the 5th of May, 1555, let us devote the sec-
ond chapter to certain things that would have escaped his
eyes, however piercing they might be.

II

THE ADVENTURERS

THE things that would have escaped his eyes, however
piercing they might be, were taking place in the
thickest, and consequently gloomiest spot in the for-
est of Saint-Pol- sur-Ternoise, at the back of a grotto which
the trees enveloped with their shade and the ivy with its
.network; while for the greater security of the present occu-
pants of this grotto, a sentinel, hidden in the brushwood,
lying flat on his stomach, and as motionless as one of the

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trunks on the ground around him, was watching to see that
no profane eye disturbed the important conventicle, to
which, however, we, in our capacity of romancer — that is
to say, magician before whom all doors are thrown open —
propose introducing our readers.

Let us take advantage of the moment when the sentinel,
who has not seen us, but whom we have discovered, turns
his eyes in the direction ot the noise made by a frightened
goat bounding through a brake, to glide, unperceived, into
the grotto, and follow in its slightest details the incident
occurring there, sheltered, as we are, behind a rocky pro-
jection.

This grotto is occupied by eight men, differing in face,
costume, and temper, although, from the arms they bear, or
which lie on the ground within reach of their hands, it is
clear they have adopted the same calling.

One of them, with ink-stained fingers and a sly, crafty
countenance, is dipping his pen — with the nib of which he
smooths out one of those hairs to be found on the surface
of badly made paper — in an inkhorn such as law-clerks,
ushers, and copyists then wore at the girdle, and is writing
on a makeshift stone table propped on two massive sup-
ports; while another, holding a burning pine branch, is
illuminating not only the writer, table, and paper, but also
himself and his six other companions with more or less bril-
liancy, according to their proximity or remoteness.

Undoubtedly the document in question must be interest-
ing to the company at large, seeing the ardor with which
they severally take part in its concoction.

Three of them, however, seem less taken up than the
others with this purely material concern.

The first is a handsome young man, about twenty-four
or twenty-five years old, elegantly clad in a cuirass of buf-
falo-hide, proof against sword and dagger surely, if not
against a bullet. A maroon velvet jacket, a little faded
undoubtedly, but still very presentable, after disclosing, at
the shoulder, a sleeve cut after the Spanish style — that is to

14 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

say, after the latest fashion — fell about the length of four
fingers below the jerkin, falling in ample folds over breeches
of green cloth, also of the newest mode, and lost in a pair of
boots high enough to protect the thighs on horseback, and
soft and pliant enough to sink down below the knees when
the wearer is on foot.

He is humming a rondeau of Clement Marot, all the time
twisting his black silky mustache with one hand, and comb-
ing, with the other, his hair, which he wears a little longer
than was fashionable at the period, evidently with the object
of turning to the best account the soft wavy locks with which
Nature had endowed him.

The second is a man scarcely thirty-six years old; only
he has a face so scarred and furrowed by wounds that it is
impossible to assign him any age. His arm and a portion
of his chest are bare; and on whatever part of his body hap-
pens to be exposed to view, a series of scars may be ob-
served, quite as numerous as those that adorn his visage.
He is engaged in attending to a wound which has denuded
a part of the biceps; luckily, the wound is in the left arm,
and therefore the consequences will not be so grave as if it
had affected the right. He is holding between his teeth the
end of a linen bandage, which he is binding tightly round a
handful of lint applied to the cut, first having steeped the
said lint in a certain balm prepared according to the pre-
scription of a gypsy, and believed by him to be infallible.
For that matter, not a word of complaint issues from his
lips, and he appears as insensible to pain as if the member
he is trying to heal was made of pine or of oak.

The third is a man of forty, tall and thin, with pale fea-
tures, and the lineaments of an ascetic. He is on his knees
in a corner, slipping a chaplet of beads between his fingers,
and, with a volubility that belongs only to him, is hurrying
through a dozen Paters and a dozen Aves. From time to
time his right hand drops the chaplet, and resounds on his
breast with the reverberation of a cooper's mallet on an
empty cask. But after he has pronounced a mea culpa two

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 15

or three times in a loud voice, he returns to his beads, and
runs them as rapidly through his fingers as a monk does his
rosary, or a dervish his combolio.

The three personages we have still to describe have a
character, heavens be praised! not less marked than the
five we have already had the honor of passing in review
under the eyes of our readers.

One of these has his two hands pressed on the very table
on which the writer is performing his task ; he follows, with-
out missing a single stroke, all the turns and twists of the
pen. It is he that has the most observations to make on
the document in question; and it must be admitted that his
observations, although tinctured with egotism, are always
full of artfulness, and, strange to say, so much do the two
things seem opposed, of sound sense also. He is forty-five,
has cunning eyes, small and deep- set, under fair, bushy
eyebrows.

Another of them is lying flat on the ground; he has
found a stone good for giving a sharp edge to swords and a
keen point to daggers. He is turning the discovery to ac-
count, and, by repeated rubbings on this stone, accompanied
by an abundant expenditure of saliva, he is gradually re-
storing the point of his poniard, which had become blunted,
to its usual sharpness. His tongue, which sticks out be-
tween his teeth from a corner of his mouth, is itself a wit-
ness to all the attention and, we may add, all the interest
excited in him by his present occupation. However, this
attention is not so absolute as to hinder him from lending
an ear to the discussion. If the clauses of the instrument
meet his approval, he simply gives a nod of satisfaction ; if,
on the contrary, it wounds his moral sense or sets his calcu-
lations at defiance, he rises, approaches the scribe, places
the point of his dagger on the paper, with these four words,
"Pardon; you are saying?" and does not raise his dagger
until he is perfectly satisfied with the explanation — a satis-
faction expressed by a still more abundant salivation and
more furious rubbing of his dagger on the stone, thanks

16 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

to which the weapon promises soon to resume its pristine
keenness.

The last, and here we must begin by acknowledging the
wrong we have done in ranking him among those occupied
with such purely material interests as are for the nonce en-
grossing the scribe and his assistants ; the last, with his back
supported by one of the walls of the grotto, his hands hang-
ing by his side, and his eyes raised to heaven, or rather to
the damp, gloomy vault on which, like will-o'-the-wisps,
the flickering rays>of the pine torch are playing — the last,
we say again, is at once a dreamer and a poet. What is he
searching for at the present moment ? Is it the solution of
some problem such as were lately resolved by Christopher
Columbus or Galileo ? Is it the form of one of those tercets
constructed by Dante, or one of those octaves chanted by
Tasso ? Only the demon that keeps watch and ward within
him could give us an answer; and he concerns himself so
little with material questions — being entirely absorbed in
the contemplation of abstractions — that he has allowed all
the clothing of the worthy poet, which is not steel or copper
or iron, to fall into rags.

And now that we have so far sketched the portraits as
well as we could, it is right to give a name to each of them.

The individual holding the pen is called Procope; he is
a Norman by birth, and almost a jurist by education; he
lards his conversation with axioms drawn from the Roman
law and aphorisms borrowed from the Capitularies of Char-
lemagne. Any one who is a party to an interchange of
documents with him may count on a lawsuit following close
on the transaction. It is true that whoever will rest satis-
fied with his word shall find his word golden; only his man-
ner of keeping it does not always square with morality, at
least as that virtue is apprehended by the vulgar. We shall
quote only a single example of this — an example, also,
which accounts for the adventurous career he has adopted
at the time we meet him. A noble lord of the court of
Fran§ois I. came, one day, to propose an affair to him and

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 17

three of his companions. The royal treasurer was to bring,
that very evening, a sum of a thousand gold crowns from
the Arsenal to the Louvre; the proposal was to stop the
treasurer at the corner of the Eue Saint- Pol, take the thou-
sand crowns from him, and share them as follows: five
hundred with the great lord, who would wait in the Place
Eoyale until the job was done, and who, as a tribute to his
rank, demanded half; the other half between Procope and
his three companions, who would thus each receive one hun-
dred and twenty-five crowns. The word was pledged on
both sides, and the matter was finished according to agree-
ment; only when the treasurer had been duly robbed, mur-
dered, and flung into the river, the three companions of
Procope ventured the proposal to slope toward Notre Dame
instead of keeping the appointment at the Place Royale,
and so save the whole thousand crowns, instead of remitting
five hundred of them to the noble lord. Whereat Procope
reminded them of their pledged word.

"Gentlemen," he said gravely, "you forget that this
would be to violate a treaty, to deceive a client ! — No, our
loyalty must be beyond reproach. We shall remit to the
duke" (the great lord was a duke) "the five hundred gold
crowns that belong to him, every one of them. But," he
continued, seeing that the proposal excited some murmurs,
" distinguimus : when he has pocketed them, and is forced
to confess that we are honest men, nothing will prevent us
from forming an ambuscade at the cemetery of Saint-Jean,
by which I know he must pass; it is a deserted spot, and
quite the place for an ambuscade. We shall treat the duke
as we did the treasurer; and, as the cemetery of Saint- Jean
is quite close to the river, both will be found, to-morrow, in
the nets of Saint- Cloud. So, instead of one hundred and
twenty -five crowns, we shall have two hundred and fifty
each, which two hundred and fifty we may enjoy and dis-
pose of without remorse, seeing we have kept our word
faithfully to this good duke!"

The proposal was accepted with enthusiasm, and the plan

18 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

carried out accordingly. Unfortunately, in their eagerness
to throw the duke into the river, the four partners did not
perceive that the duke was still breathing. The coolness of
the water revived him, and, instead of going to Saint- Cloud,
as Procope expected, he landed on the Quai de Grevres,
pushed on to the Chatelet, and gave the provost of Paris,
who at that time happened to be M. d'Estourville, such an
accurate description of the four bandits that they judged
it prudent to quit Paris the morrow after, being apprehen-
sive of certain legal proceedings, at the end of which, not-
withstanding Procope 's weighty knowledge of the law, they
might have been forced to abandon a thing valued more or
less by even the deepest philosophers ; that it to say, life.

Our four rascals, then, had left Paris, each making for
one of the four cardinal points. It was the lot of Procope
to seek the north. Hence it is we have the pleasure of
meeting him again, with pen in hand, in the grotto of Saint-
Pol- sur-Ternoise, selected by his new companions on ac-
count of his singular merit to draw up the important instru-
ment we shall deal with in a moment.

He who is holding a light for Procope is named Heinrich
Scharfenstein. This unworthy follower of Luther, whom
Charles V. 's ill-treatment of the Huguenots has driven into
the ranks of the French army, along with his nephew, Franz
Scharfenstein, at the present moment acting as sentinel out-
side, is of gigantic stature. Indeed, uncle and nephew are
both colossuses, and are animated by the same soul and
moved by the same spirit. Many pretend that this single
spirit is not enough for two bodies each six feet high ; but
they are not of this opinion themselves, and are certain that
things are quite right as they are. In ordinary life they
rarely condescend to have recourse to any auxiliary what-
ever, be it man, or tool, or machine, in order to attain the
end before them. If this end is to move some enormous
mass, instead of investigating, like our modern scientists,
the nature of the machines that enabled Cleopatra to trans-
port her ships from the Mediterranean to the Red Sea, or

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 19

of the engines by means of which Titus raised the gigantic
blocks of the Flavian circus, they bravely encircle the ob-
jects to be displaced with their four arms, knot a chain with
their fingers of steel, incapable of being broken, make one
simultaneous effort with the regularity that distinguishes
all their movements, and the object leaves the place it has
for the place it is intended to have. If the thing aimed at
is to scale a wall or to reach a window, instead of embarrass-
ing themselves, like their companions, with a heavy ladder,
which hinders their march when the expedition succeeds,
and must be abandoned when the enterprise fails, they go
unencumbered to the scene of their operations. One of
them — it doesn't matter which — braces himself against the
wall; the other mounts on his shoulders, or, if necessary,
stands on his hands raised above his head. With the help
of his own arms, the second attains an altitude of eighteen
or twenty feet — an elevation almost always sufficient to gain
the crest of a wall or the balcony of a window. In battle
it is always the same system of physical association: they
march side by side, keeping the same step ; but there is this
difference — while the one is striking, the other is plunder-
ing. When the striker is tired of striking, he passes his
sword, or battle-axe, or club to his companion, just saying
these words, "Your turn now!" Then there is a change of
characters: the striker plunders, and the plunderer strikes.
Moreover, their mode of striking is very well known and
highly appreciated; but, as we have said, in a general way,
there is more esteem felt for their arms than for their brains,
for their strength than for their understanding. And now
you know why one of them has been stationed as a sentinel
outside, and the other is acting as a candlestick within.

As to the young man with black mustaches and curly
hair, who is crisping his mustaches and combing his hair,
he is named Yvonnet; Paris is his birthplace, and his heart
is true to France. Besides the physical advantages we have
mentioned, it ought to be added that he has the hands and
feet of a woman. In peace he is always lamenting, like the

20 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Sybarite of old ; a crumpled roseleaf wounds him ; if march-
ing is in order, he is exhausted; and he becomes dizzy if
any one hints at climbing. When he is asked to think,
he grows hysterical. He is as nervous and impressionable
as a young girl, and this sensibility of his must be managed
with the greatest care. In daylight he has a horror of
spiders, and at night the sight of a toad will drive him out
of his wits; while a mouse throws him into a fainting-fit.
Darkness is equally repugnant to him, and only a great
passion can enable him to get the better of this antipathy.
However, we must render him this justice, he has always
some great passion on hand; but he almost always arrives
near his mistress, if the rendezvous is during the night,
quite scared and trembling; and, in order to recover his
composure, he requires as many reassuring words and at-
tentions and caresses as were lavished by Hero on Leander
when he entered her tower all dripping from the waters
of the Dardanelles. It is true that as soon as he hears the
trumpet, it is true that as soon as he smells the powder, it
is true that as soon as he sees the standards pass, Yvonnet
is no longer the same man: there is a complete transforma-
tion in him ; there is no more languor, or dizziness, or hys-
terics. The young girl becomes a ferocious soldier ; it is all
cut and thrust then, and he is a regular lion, with claws
of iron and teeth of steel. He who shrank from mounting
a staircase to reach the bedchamber of a pretty woman,
clambers up a ladder, hangs by a cord, clutches at a thread
in order to be the first to reach the wall. The combat over,
he washes, with the greatest care, his face and hands,
changes his clothes and linen, then gradually becomes the
man we are now looking at, curling his mustaches, combing
his hair, and flipping, with the end of his fingers, the im-
pertinent dust that has fastened on his garments.

The man binding up the wound he has received in the
biceps of his left arm, is called Malemort. He is a sombre
and melancholy character, who has but one passion, but one
love, but one joy — war ! an unfortunate passion, a love badly

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 21

rewarded, a joy short and fatal; for scarcely has he had a
taste of carnage than, thanks to the blind and furious ardor
with which he throws himself into the melee, and to the little
care he takes when striking others not to be stricken him-
self, he is sure to catch some terrible pike-thrust, or some
awful present in the shape of a musket-ball; and then lie
groans lamentably, not at the pain of the wound, but at the
sorrow he experiences at seeing others keep up the dance
without him. Fortunately, his flesh heals easily, and his
bones knit together with a speed that is marvellous. At
the present moment he can reckon up twenty- five wounds —
three more than Caesar! and he has a sound expectation, if
the war continues, of receiving twenty- five new ones before
that stroke which will put an end to his glorious and painful
career.

The lean personage praying in a corner, and telling his
beads on his knees, is styled Lactance. He is an ardent
Catholic, and is afflicted by the neighborhood of the two
Scharfensteins; he is afraid their heresy may sully him.
Obliged by his profession to fight against his brothers in
Jesus Christ, and to kill as many of them as he can, there
is no austerity he does not practice to counterbalance this
stern necessity. The cloth robe he is wearing at present,
like a kind of shirt, next the skin, is lined with a coat of
mail; that is, except we regard the coat of mail as the stuff
and the cloth as the lining. However this may be, in battle
the coat of mail is on the outside, and so becomes a cuirass;
when the battle is over, the coat of mail is on the inside,
and becomes a hair-shirt. And, for that matter, it is surely
a satisfaction to die by his hand; for the person killed by
this holy man is sure, at least, of not wanting prayers.
In the last engagement he slew two Spaniards and one
Englishman; and, as he is in debt to them, particularly on
account of the heresy of the Englishman, who cannot be
satisfied by an ordinary De Profundis, he is -crowding Pater
and Ave on Pater and Ave, leaving to his companions the
care of the purely temporal concerns they are absorbed in

22 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

at the present moment. When he has settled his account
with heaven, he will descend to earth and sign the docu-
ment, not without the erasure and addition of some clauses
rendered necessary by his tardy intervention.

The man resting his two hands on the table, and watch-
ing with an attention that never wanders — being, in this
respect, the exact opposite of Lactance — every penstroke of
Procope, is called Maldent. He was born at Noyon, his
father being of Le Mans and his mother of Picardy.
He has been foolish and prodigal in his young days; and
so, now that he has attained an age of sobriety and wis-
dom, he will make up for lost time, and manage his affairs
prudently. He has had a multitude of adventures, which
he recounts with a simplicity that is not without its charm.
But it has to be admitted that this simplicity disappears
entirely when he and Procope debate some point of law.
Then they realize the legend of the two Gaspards — the one
of Le Mans, the other Norman — a legend of which they
are perhaps the real heroes. However, Maldent gives and
receives a sword- thrust bravely; and, although he has not
the strength of Heinrich or Franz Scharfenstein, the courage
of YVonnet, or the impetuosity of Malemort, he is at need
a comrade that may be relied on, and will not desert a friend
in trouble.

The grinder sharpening the dagger, and trying the point
of it on his nail, answers to the name of Pilletrousse. He
is a thoroughbred freebooter. He has, turn about, served
Spaniards and Englishmen. But the English are too great
hands at a bargain, and the Spaniards are not the best of
pay; so he has decided to work on his own account. Pille-
trousse prowls about the highways ; during the night, espe-
cially, the highways are full of pillagers of all nations.
Pilletrousse pillages the pillagers; only he respects the
French, who are almost his fellow-countrymen. Pille-
trousse is a Proven9al; Pilletrousse is even good-hearted.
If they are poor, he helps them along; if they are weak,
he protects them; if they are sick, he nurses them; but,

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

if lie meet a real fellow-countryman — that is to say, a man
born between Mount Yiso and the mouths of the Ehone,
between the Comtat and Frejus — the latter can dispose of
Pilletrousse body and soul, money and blood ; trou de laire !
you would think Pilletrousse was the obliged party !

In fine, the ninth and last, he with his back to the wall,
and his arms moving this way and .that, and his eyes raised
to heaven, is named Fracasso. He is, as we have stated, a
poet and a dreamer: very far from resembling Yvomiet,
whom the darkness frightens, he loves those fine nights
lighted by the stars alone; he loves the craggy banks of
rivers; he loves the resounding shores of the sea. Unfor-
tunately, as he is forced to follow the French army wherever
it goes — for, although an Italian, he has pledged his sword to
the cause of Henry II. — he is not free to wander according
to his inclination; but what does it matter? To the poet
everything serves for inspiration; to the dreamer every-
thing supplies material for his dreams; only, distraction is
a necessity for dreamers and poets, and distraction is ren-
dered almost impossible in the career adopted by Fracasso.
Thus often, in the middle of the fight, Frascasso stops sud-
denly to listen to the notes of a clarion, to view a passing
cloud, to admire some fine feat of arms performed before
his eyes. Then the foeman in front of Fracasso profits by
this distraction to deal some terrible blow that awakes the
dreamer from his dreams, the poet from his ecstasy. But
woe to that foeman if, despite the advantage given him, he
has taken his measures badly, and has not at once stunned
our Fracasso ! Fracasso is sure to exact vengeance, not for
the blow received, but to punish the ill-bred person who
has brought him down from the seventh heaven, where
he was floating, upborne by the multi-colored pinions of
imagination and fancy.

And now that we have, after the manner of the blind
old bard divine, made the catalogue of our adventurers —
some of whom cannot be quite unknown to such of our
friends as have read "Ascanio" and "The Two Dianas" —

24 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

we must recount the cause of their meeting in this grotto,
and the nature of the mysterious document they are so
anxiously engaged on.

Ill

IN WHICH THE EEADER MAKES THE MOST AMPLE ACQUAINT-
ANCE WITH THE HEKOES WE HAVE INTRODUCED TO HIM

ON the morning of this same day, the 5th of May,
1555, a little troop of four men, who seemed to
form a part of the garrison of Doullens, had left
that city by slipping out of the Arras gate, as soon as this
gate had been, we will not say open, but half -open.

These four men, muffled up in long cloaks, equally ser-
viceable for concealing their weapons and guarding them
from the stiff morning breeze, followed, with all sorts of
precautions, the banks of the little river Authie, until they
reached its source. From thence they diverged in the direc-
tion of the little chain of hills we have already so often men-
tioned, continued their course, always with the same pre-
cautions, along its western slope, and, after a two hours'
journey, at last arrived at the outskirts of the forest of
Saint- Pol- sur-Ternoise. There, one of them, who appeared
more familiar than the others with the locality, took com-
mand of the little band, and, guiding himself at one time
by a tree more leafy or more devoid of branches than its
fellows, at another, renewing his acquaintance with a rock
or a sheet of water, he at length reached the grotto to which
we ourselves conducted the reader in the beginning of the
preceding chapter.

Then he made a sign to his companions to wait a mo-
ment, looked with a certain anxiety at some grass that
seemed freshly trampled on, at some branches that seemed
recently broken, and, throwing himself flat on his stomach,
and crawling like a snake, disappeared within the cavern.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 25

His comrades, who stayed outside, heard the echo of his
voice; but the tones denoted nothing alarming. He was
interrogating the recesses of the grotto; and as these re-
cesses answered him only by silence and solitude, as the
triple echo of his voice was the only sound he heard in re-
sponse to his triple call, he soon reappeared at the entrance
and made a sign to his comrades to follow him.

The three comrades did so, and, after some obstacles that
were easily overcome, found themselves in the interior of
the cave.

"Ah!" murmured the one who had so skilfully con-
ducted them, with a sigh of heartfelt satisfaction, "tandem
ad terminum eamus /"

"Which means?" asked one of the three adventurers,
in a very pronounced Picard accent.

"Which means, my dear Maldent, that we are approach-
ing, or have approached, the term of our expedition. ' '

"Pardon, Monsieur Procope, " said another adventurer,
in a strong Teutonic accent, "but I don't very well under-
stand. Do you, Heinrich?"

"No, I don't understand either."

"And why the devil should you want to understand?"
replied Procope — for the reader has already guessed that the
person addressed by Franz Scharfenstein was our legist
Procope, or Brogobe, as we should have to write, if we pro-
posed reproducing the impossible patois of our two Germans.
"If I and Maldent understand, what else is required?"

"Ya, " replied the two Germans, philosophically; "that's
all that's required."

"Well, then," said Procope, "let us sit down and eat a
bite and drain a glass, to pass away the time; and while we
are doing so, I'll explain everything."

"Ya, ya!" said Franz Scharfenstein; "let us eat a bite
and drain a glass, and while we are doing so he'll explain
everything. ' '

The adventurers looked round them, and, thanks to the
fact that their eyes were growing accustomed to the dark-

26 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

ness, which, besides, was less great at the entrance to the
grotto than in its depths, they perceived three stones, which
they drew close together, in order to be able to talk more
confidentially.

As a fourth one could not be found, Heinrich Scharfen-
stein politely offered his to Procope, who was without a
seat; but Procope thanked him with the same courtesy,
stretched his cloak on the ground, and lay down on it.

Then bread, cold meat, and wine were taken from the
wallets carried by the two giants; the whole was placed in
the centre of the semicircle, of which the three adventur-
ers formed the arc, and Procope, lying at full length, the
chord; after this they attacked their improvised breakfast
with a fury that showed their morning promenade had not
been without its effect on the appetite of the feasters.

For nearly ten minutes nothing was heard but the sound
of jaws grinding, with a regularity that would have done
honor to machines, bread and meat, and even the very
bones of the fowls borrowed from the neighboring farm-
yards, and composing the most delicate part of the repast.

Maldent was the first to find his tongue.

' ' You were saying, my dear Procope, that, while eating
a bite, you would explain your plan. The eating is more
than half over — at least, as far as I am concerned. Begin,
then, your explanation. I am listening. ' '

"Ya!" said Franz, with his mouth full; "we are listen-
ing."

"Well?"

"Well, it is thus — Ecce res judicanda, as they say in the
law courts. ' '

"Silence, you Scharfensteins!" exclaimed Maldent. -

"Why, I haven't said one word," replied Franz.

' ' Neither have I, ' ' continued Heinrich.

"Ah! I thought I had heard—"

"And I, too," said Procope.

"All right; some fox we have disturbed in his hole.
Go on, Procope, go on!"

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 27

"Well, then, you'll have it in a nutshell. About a
quarter of a league from here there is a pretty little farm-
house— ' '

"Why, you promised us a chateau!" observed Maldent.

"Goodness gracious! aren't you particular, now?" said
Procope. ' 'Well, then, agreed, I apologize. About a quar-
ter of a league from here there is a pretty little chateau — "

"Farmhouse or chateau doesn't matter," said Heinrich
Scharf enstein ; "the thing that does, is the booty we are
likely to get there!"

"Bravo, Heinrich! that's the way to talk ! But this in-
fernal scamp Maldent quibbles like an attorney. I will
continue. ' '

"Ay, continue."

"About a quarter of a league from here, then, there is
a charming country-house, inhabitated only by the proprie-
tors and one male and one female servant — It is true the
farmer and his workmen are living at some distance. ' '

"How many do they all number?" asked Heinrich.

' ' Ten, or thereaboiit, ' ' replied Procope.

"My nephew and myself will give a good account of the
ten. Eh, nephew Franz ?"

"Ya, mein uncle," replied Franz, with the laconism of a
Spartan.

"Well," continued Procope, "the affair is settled; we'll
spend the time till nightfall drinking and eating and telling
stories — ' '

"Drinking and eating, particularly," said Franz.

"Then at nightfall," continued Procope, "we leave here
just as noiselessly as we came; we gain the border of the
wood, and creep along a sunken road, which I know well,
up to the foot of the wall. There Franz will mount on his
uncle's shoulders, or Heinrich on his nephew's; the one on
the shoulders of the other will climb over the wall and open
the gate. The gate open — you understand, Maldent? the
gate . open — you understand, you, Scharf enstein ? — the gate
open, we enter. ' '

(2)_y0l. 20

28 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"Not without us, I venture to hope," said a voice two
steps behind the adventurers — a voice so strongly accentu-
ated that it not only made Procope and Maldent start, but
even the two colossuses.

"Treason!" cried Procope, bounding on his feet, and
taking a step backward.

"Treason!" shouted Maldent, trying to penetrate the
darkness with his eyes, but not stirring from his place.

"Treason!" cried the two Scharfensteins together, draw-
ing their swords, and making a step forward.

"Ah! a fight. You want a fight? Well, I'm not dis-
agreeable. Here, Lactance! here, Fracasso! here, Male-
mort!"

A triple howl resounded from the back of the cavern,
indicating that those appealed to were perfectly willing to
respond.

"A moment! a moment, Pilletrousse!" said Procope,
who had recognized the fourth adventurer by his voice;
"what the devil! we are not Turks or gypsies, to cut one
another's throats in the middle of the night without trying
to come to an understanding first. Let us have a light, so
that we can see each other's faces, and so know with whom
we have to do. Then let us arrange matters, if possible ; if
not, why, we can fight!"

"Let us have the fighting first," said a gloomy voice,
which issued from the depths of the grotto, but really
seemed to issue from the depths of hell.

' ' Silence, Malemort ! ' ' said Pilletrousse ; "in my opinion,
Procope 's proposal is most acceptable. What do you say,
Lactance? and you, Fracasso?"

"I say," replied Lactance, "that if this proposal may
save the life of one of our brothers, I accept it. ' '

' ' And yet there would have been something so poetic in
fighting in a grotto, where the dead might also be entombed !
but as we must not sacrifice material interests even to
poetry," said Fracasso, dolefully, "I subscribe to the opin-
ion of Pilletrousse and Lactance. ' '

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 29

"But I insist we have a fight for it!"' growled Malemort.

"Now look here, you attend to your arm, and don't
bother us," said Pilletrousse ; "we are three against you,
and Procope, who is a lawyer, will tell you that when three
are against one the three always have the best of the
argument. ' '

Malemort gave vent to a roar of anguish at seeing him-
self miss such a splendid chance of getting a fresh wound;
but he took the advice of Pilletrousse, and yielded to the
judgment of the majority, although he by no means con-
curred in its soundness.

During this time Lactance and Maldent were each busy
striking a light, and, as both bands were anxious to have a
clear view of the situation, two pine torches, covered with
tow and smeared with pitch, burst into flame at the same
moment, and illuminated the cave and its tenants with their
double glare.

We have explored the cave ; we have made the acquaint-
ance of its tenants. We have, therefore, no longer any
need to describe the one or depict the other; all that re-
mains for us is to describe and depict the fashion in which
they were grouped.

At the back of the grotto were stationed Pilletrousse,
Malemort, Lactance, and Fracasso; in front the two Schar-
fensteins, Maldent, and Procope.

Pilletrousse had kept his position in the van; behind
him Malemort was biting his fist with rage ; near Malemort
was Lactance, with a torch in his hand, and trying to soothe
his bellicose companion: Fracasso, on his knees, was, like
Agis at the tomb of Leonidas, tying his sandal, in order,
like that hero, to be prepared for war while invoking peace.

The two Scharfensteins formed, as we have already
stated, the vanguard on the opposite side; about a yard
behind them was Maldent; and a yard behind him was
Procope.

The two torches lighted all the circular part of the
grotto. A single recess near the door, containing quite a

30 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

heap of fern, intended, no doubt, to become the bed of the
future anchorite, who might fancy the cavern for a home,
remained in shadow.

A beam of light, gliding through the opening of the
grotto, was making vain efforts to struggle with its palish
tint against the almost blood- red glare cast by the two
torches.

The whole formed a gloomy and warlike spectacle, and
would have made an admirable scene in one of our modern
dramas.

Our adventurers, for the most part, knew one another
already: they had already seen what they could severally
do on the field of battle; but there they were struggling
against the common enemy, not making preparations for
mutual slaughter.

Fearless as were their hearts, every man of them was not
the less impressed by the seriousness of the situation.

But the one who took the clearest and most impartial
view of the momentous issue was decidedly our legist Pro-
cope.

So he advanced toward his adversaries, without, how-
ever, passing beyond the line the two Scharfensteins traced.

"Gentlemen," he said, "we have been united in desiring
to see one another, and our desire is fulfilled. It is some-
thing gained: you see us, and we see you; therefore both
sides know their chances. We are four against four, but
with us are these two gentlemen — just look at them" (and
he pointed to Heinrich and Franz Scharfenstein) — "which
authorizes me to say almost that we are eight against four. ' '

At this imprudent gasconade, not only did one simul-
taneous cry burst forth from the mouths of Pilletrousse,
Malemort, Lactance, and Fracasso, but their swords again
leaped from their scabbards.

Procope saw that he had forgotten his usual tact, and
had made a blunder. He tried to recover ground.

" Gentlemen, " he said, "I do not claim that even with
eight against four the victory would be certain when these

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 31

four are named Pilletrousse, Malemort, Lactance, and Fra-
casso. ' '

This sort of postscript seemed to smooth matters down
a little, though Malemort continued to growl under his
breath.

"Well, come to the point, then!" cried Pilletrousse.

"Yes," answered Procope, "ad eventum festina. Well,
then, gentlemen, I was about to say that, putting aside the
uncertain chances of a combat, we ought to try to come to
some arrangement. Now, we are engaged in a kind of law-
suit, jacens sub judice Us est ; how shall we bring this lawsuit
to a close ? In the first place, by a pure and simple state-
ment of the case ; this will prove we have right on our side.
Who got the idea yesterday of seizing the little farmhouse,
or, as you prefer calling it, the little Chateau du Parcq ? I
and those gentlemen. Who left Doullens to put the plan
in execution ? I and those gentlemen. Who came to this
grotto to arrange the proper course to be pursued during
the approaching night? I and those gentlemen again.
Finally, who has matured the plan, developed it in your
presence, and so inspired you with the desire of becoming
partners in our association ? I and those gentlemen, of
course. Answer, Pilletrousse, and tell us whether the con-
duct of an enterprise, without let or hindrance, does not
belong to those who have had the priority both of the idea
and its execution ? Dixi /"

Pilletrousse burst out laughing; Fracasso shrugged his
shoulders; Lactance shook his torch; and Malemort mur-
mured, "A fight!"

"What makes you laugh, Pilletrousse?" asked Procope,
gravely, disdaining to address the others-, and determined
to hold a parley only with the person who seemed for the
moment to have become chief of the band.

' ' What makes me laugh, my dear Procope, ' ' replied the
adventurer to whom the question was addressed, "is the
profound assurance with which you set forth your rights,
especially as this very exposition of yours, if we were to

32 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

admit the principles on which you base it, does not leave
you and your companions a leg to stand on. Yes, I admit
that the conduct of an enterprise belongs, without let or
hindrance, to those who have the priority both of idea and
execution — ' '

"Ah!" interrupted Procope, triumphantly.

4 ' Yes, but excuse me a moment ; the idea of seizing the
Chateau du Parcq, as you prefer to call it, came to you yes-
terday evening, did it not? Well, it came to us the day
before yesterday. You left Doullens this morning to exe-
cute the idea? We left Montreuil-sur-Mer yesterday even-
ing with the same object. You entered the grotto an hour
ago? We have been here for the last four hours. You
have matured and developed the plan before us, but we had
already matured and developed the plan long before you.
You intend attacking the farmhouse this night ? We claim
priority of idea and execution, and consequently the right
to conduct the enterprise without let or hindrance. ' '

And, parodying the classic manner in which Procope
had finished his discourse, "Dixi!" added Pilletrousse,
with not less coolness and emphasis than the legist.

"But," asked Procope, a little disturbed by the argu-
ment of Pilletrousse, "how do I know you are speaking the
truth?"

"My word as a gentleman!" said Pilletrousse.

"I would rather prefer another security."

"On the faith of a freebooter, then!"

"Hem!" muttered Procope, imprudently.

The temper of the community was growing warm; the
doubt expressed by Procope as to the value of Pilletrousse 's
word exasperated his followers.

"Well, then, a fight be it!" cried Fracasso and Lactance
together.

"Yes, a fight! a fight! a fight!" howled Malemort.

"Fight away, then ! since you will have it, " said Procope.

* ' A fight by all means ! since there is no other way out
of it, ' ' said Maldent.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 33

" A fight!" repeated Franz and Heinrich Scharfenstein,
drawing their swords.

And then, as everybody appeared agreed, there was a
general drawing of swords or daggers, or else a seizure of
axe or club ; each looked his enemy square in the face, and
with curses on the lips, fury in the eyes, and death in the
hands, prepared to rush on him.

Suddenly the pile of fern heaped up in the recess near
the entrance of the grotto was seen to move ; a young man
elegantly clad darted out, and with a bound beyond the
circle of darkness, appeared in the circle of illumination,
extending his arms like Hersilia in the picture of the
"Sabines, " and crying —

"Down with your arms, comrades! I undertake to ar-
range this matter to the general satisfaction. ' '

All eyes were turned on the new personage who entered
on the scene in so abrupt and unexpected a fashion, and all
cried in unison —

"Yvonnet!"

"But where the devil have you come from?" asked
Pilletrousse and Procope at the same time.

"You are about to learn, " said Yvonnet; "but first re-
turn swords and daggers to the scabbards. The sight of all
these naked blades sets every one of my nerves quivering
horribly."

All the adventurers obeyed except Malemort.

"Come, come, comrade," said Yvonnet, addressing him
directly, "what is the meaning of that?"

"Ah!" sighed Malemort, as if his heart were broken,
"are we never then to .have a little quiet cutting and
thrusting!"

And he sheathed his sword with a gesture full of vexa-
tion and disappointment.

84 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

IV

THE DEED OF PARTNERSHIP

YVONNET cast a look around him, and, recognizing
that, if anger was not entirely banished from the
hearts of our adventurers, at least swords and dag-
gers were returned to their scabbards, he turned alternately
to Pilletrousse and Procope, who, as they remind him, have
just had the honor of putting him the same question.

"Where have I come from?" he repeated. ilPardieuf
a nice question that ! I have come from that heap of fern,
under which I threw myself when I saw Pilletrousse, Lac-
tance, Malemort, and Fracasso enter, and from which I
thought it time to get out when I saw them followed by
Procope, Maldent, and the two Scharf ensteins. ' '

"But what were you doing in the grotto at such an hour
of the 'night ? for when we came here it was yet hardly
daylight."

"Ah!" replied Yvonnet, "that's my secret, which I will
tell you immediately, if you are very good; but, first, let
us come to the main point. ' '

Then, addressing Pilletrousse —

"So, then, my dear Pilletrousse," said he, "it was your
intention to pay a little visit to the Chateau du Parcq, as
you are pleased to call it?"

"Yes," said Pilletrousse.

"And yours, too?" asked Yvonnet of Procope.

' ' And ours, too, ' ' replied Procope.

"And you were about fighting to settle the priority of
your rights?"

"We were about fighting," replied Pilletrousse and
Procope together.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 35

"Shame!" exclaimed Yvonnet; "comrades, Frenchmen,
or, at least, serving the cause of France!"

"Faith, we couldn't help it, as these gentlemen refused
to renounce their claim, ' ' said Procope.

"We could not act otherwise, since these gentlemen
refused to give way," said Pilletrousse.

"We couldn't help it! we could not act otherwise!" re-
peated Yvonnet, mimicking the voice of the two disputants.
"You could not help massacring each other; you could not
act otherwise than cutting each other's throats, eh ? And
you were there, Lactance, and you saw the preparations
for the slaughter, and your Christian soul did not utter a
groan ?"

"Yes, it did, and a heartfelt groan at that!"

"And that is all wherewith your holy religion inspires
you — a groan ?"

1 ' After the fight, ' ' returned Lactance, a little humiliated
by the reproaches of Yvonnet, the justice of which he felt —
"after the fight I would have prayed for the dead."

"What a benevolent creature!"

"What would you have had me do, pray, my dear Mon-
sieur Yvonnet ?' '

"Ah, pardieu! I would have had you do what I am
doing — I who am not a devotee, nor a saint, nor a swallower
of Pater Nosters like you. What would I have had you do ?
Throw yourself between those swords and blades, inter gla-
dios et enses, to speak after the manner of our legist Procope,
and say to your misguided brethren, with that air of com-
punction which so well becomes you, the words I am about
to say to them now : ' Comrades, when there is enough for
four, there is enough for eight; if the first job does not
bring in all we expected, we shall soon have another on
hand. Men are born to aid one another on the rough path-
ways of life, not to encumber with stumbling-blocks the
roads that are hard enough to make one's way over as it is.
Instead of dividing, let us unite. What four cannot at-
tempt without enormous risks, eight can achieve without

36 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

danger. Let us keep our hatreds, our daggers and swords,
for our enemies, and for ourselves let kindly words and
courteous deeds be our only weapons. God, who protects
France when He has nothing more pressing to occupy His
time, will smile on our fraternal unity and give it a fitting
reward!' This, my dear Lactance, is what you ought to
have said and what you have not said. ' '

" It is true, " replied Lactance, smiting his breast; "mea
culpa ! mea culpa f mea maxima culpa /"

And, extinguishing the torch, he fell on his knees and
began to pray with fervor.

"Well, then, I have said it in your place," continued
Yvonnet, "and I add, The divine reward which Lactance
would have promised, I bring, comrades. ' '

"You, Yvonnet?" said Procope, with an air of doubt.

"Yes, I, who had the same desire as you, and even
before you."

"What!" said Pilletrousse, "you, too, had the idea of
entering the chateau we all have our eyes on?"

"Not only had I the idea," returned Yvonnet; "but,
more than that, I have begun to execute it. ' '

"Impossible!" exclaimed all his hearers, lending him,
though, a closer attention than ever.

"Yes, I have a friend in the place — a charming little
soubrette, named Gertrude," he added, twirling his mus-
tache, "who for my sake is willing to deny father, mother,
and mistress ; she is mine, body and soul. ' '

Lactance heaved a sigh.

"And you say you have been in the chateau ?"

"I left it this night; but you know how n.uch I dread a
walk in the night, particularly alone. Bather than spend
three leagues in reaching Doullens, or six leagues in reach-
ing Abbeville or Montreuil-sur-Mer, I spent a quarter of a
league in making my way to this grotto, with which I was
well acquainted, as it was the scene of my first assignation
with my divinity. I made acquaintance with the bed of fern,
and had fallen asleep there, and had intended to acquaint

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 37

the first of you I met with my plan, when Pilletrousse ar-
rived with his band, and then Procope with his. Each
came here with the same object. And this would have
undoubtedly led to a tragedy, did I not judge it time to
interfere, as I have interfered. Now I have to say to you:
Instead of fighting, become partners. Why not enter the
place by craft instead of by violence? Would you not
rather have the doors opened for you than broken in ? In-
stead of having to rummage for gold and jewelry, would
you not prefer to have them put into your hands ? Then,
shake ! I'm your man ! And to show how disinterested I
am, I say, let us share. In spite of the service I am render-
ing you, I only ask an equal share. If any one has any-
thing to say against this, let him say it; I am willing to
listen!"

A thrill of admiration ran through the assembly. Lac-
tan ce forgot to pray for a while, and ran to kiss the hem of
his jerkin. Pilletrousse, Maldent and Fracasso grasped his
hand. The two Scharfensteins almost choked him with
their embraces. Malemort alone growled in his corner:

"There won't be a single thrust or parry. Ah, dame/11

"Well, now," -said Yvonnet, who had been for a long
time looking forward to just such an association, and who,
seeing the opportunity within his reach, had no notion to
let it slip — "well, now, don't let us lose a moment! Here
we are, nine blades who fear neither Grod nor the devil — ' '

' ' Oh, excuse me, ' ' interrupted Lactance ; "we fear
God!"

"Oh, yes, of course! It's a way we have of speaking,
Lactance; I meant to say, Here we are, nine blades come
hither by chance —

"By Providence, Yvonnet!" interrupted Lactance,
again.

"By Providence, granted. By good luck, we have
among us a legist Procope, and, by more good luck, he
happens to have a pen and ink at his girdle, and, I am quite
sure, also a stamp of our good King Henry II. — "

-38 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"Yes, faith, I have one," replied Procope; "and, as
Yvonnet says, it's luck."

"Then let us come to the point. Draw up a deed of
partnership, while one of us, stationed in the forest, and at
the end of the path that leads to the grotto, may see that we
are not disturbed. ' '

"I will be the sentinel," said Malemort. "I'll see to it
that if Englishmen, Spaniards, or Germans are prowling
about the forest, they'll soon be dead men!"

"But, my dear Malemort," said Yvonnet, "that's the
very thing we don't want. In our present position — that is
to say, within two hundred yards of the camp of the Em-
peror Charles V., with a man whose ear is so finely and
accurately trained as that of Monseigneur Emmanuel Phili-
bert of Savoy — we must not kill all that we should like
to kill, especially as we can't be sure always of killing
the right person. We perhaps only wound him; and the
wounded scream like the eagles. Everybody hurries to
the rescue of the wounded; and if this wood is once occu-
pied, God only knows what will become of us! No, my
dear Malemort, you must stay here, and one of the two
Scharfensteins will mount guard. Both -are Germans. If
one of our sentinels is discovered, he can say he is a lans-
quenet of the Duke of Aremberg or a trooper of Count
Wai deck."

"Better of Count Waldeck, " said Heinrich Scharf en-
stein.

"This colossus is full of intelligence," said Yvonnet.
"Yes, my worthy fellow. Better of Count Waldeck, be-
cause Count Waldeck is a freebooter, like the rest of us.
That's what you mean, is it not?"

"Ya; I mean just that."

"And is there anything wonderful in a freebooter like
him lurking in this wood?"

' ' Nein ; nothing wonderful at all. ' '

' ' The only thing of importance is, that whichever of the
Scharfensteins acts as sentinel does not fall into the hands

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 39

of the Duke of Savoy ; for lie has little respect for highway-
men, and gives short shrift to marauders!"

"Yes," said Heinrich; "he hanged two soldiers yester-
day!"

' "Three!" said Franz.

"Well, which of you is willing to act as sentry ?"

"I," replied uncle and nephew together.

"My friends," replied Yvonnet, "such devotion is appre-
ciated by your comrades. But only one sentinel is needed.
Draw lots, then ; a post of honor remains for him who has
to remain here. ' '

The two Scharfensteins consulted together for a moment.

"Franz has good eyes and good ears; he will be senti-
nel," said Heinrich.

' ' Grood ! let Franz go to his post, then. ' '

Franz left the grotto, with his ordinary tranquillity.

4 ' You understand, Franz ? If you are caught by others,
it doesn't matter; but if you are taken by the Duke of
Savoy, you are hanged!"

"No one shall catch me; make your mind easy," said
Franz, tranquilly.

And he left the grotto to take the post assigned him.

"And the post of honor," asked Heinrich — "where
is it?"

Yvonnet took the torch from the hands of Maldent and
presented it to Heinrich.

"There you are!" he said; "stand quiet, and don't stir
for your life. ' '

"I won't stir, you may be sure," replied Heinrich.

Procope sat down, took m his paper from his pocket, and
his pen and ink-bottle from his belt.

We have seen him at work at the very time we entered
the grotto of Saint- Pol- sur-Ternoise — a spot usually so
lonely, but now, by a fortuitous concurrence of circum-
stances, so strangely tenanted to-day.

We trust we have made our readers come to the conclu-
sion that it was not a work very easily managed that Pro-

40 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

cope was devoting himself to between eleven in the morning
and three in the afternoon of this 5th of May, 1555.

And so, just as in a bill discussed in our modern par-
liaments, every one brought forward his amendments and
clauses, and so forth.

The said amendments and clauses were passed by a ma-
jority of votes, and, it must be said to the honor of our free-
booters, with a justice, decorum, and impartiality not often
found in more pretentious assemblies.

There are really wrong-headed people who maintain,
shameless calumniators that they are, that a code of law
drawn up by robbers is likely to be more thorough and
equitable than a code drawn up by honest men.

We pity the blindness of such people, just as we pity the
blindness of Calvinists and Lutherans for their errors, and
we pray to Grod to pardon both.

Finally, at the very moment when the watch of Yvonnet
marked a quarter- past three — watches were rare at the
period, but our dandy adventurer had one — finally, we re-
peat, at a quarter-past three, Procope raised his head, took
his pen in his hand, and produced his paper. Thereat, feel-
ing an emotion of joy, he could not help exclaiming —

"Ah! it's done, and well done — Exegi monumentum /"

At this announcement, Heinrich Scharfenstein, who had
been holding the torch for three hours and twenty minutes,
stretched his arm, as he felt rather tired; Yvonnet inter-
rupted his oration; Malemort completed the bandaging of
his wound; Lactance hurried through his last Ave\ Mai-
dent drew himself up to his full height, his hands still
resting on the table; Pilletrousse sheathed his dagger, now
sharpened to his satisfaction ; and Fracasso awoke from his
poetic revery, satisfied with having captured the rhymes he
had been in search of for a sonnet during the past month.

All approached the table, with the exception of Franz,
who, leaving to his uncle the discussion of their common
interests, had placed himself, or rather lain down, within
twenty yards of the entrance to the grotto, with the deter-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 41

mined resolution, not only of watching over his companions,
but of keeping out of the way of that rough justiciary, Em-
manuel Philibert of Savoy.

' ' Gentlemen, ' ' said Procope, glancing at the members of
the circle that had formed around him with as much regu-
larity as the officer is accustomed to behold when he calls
his soldiers to order — "gentlemen, are we all here?"

' l Yes, ' ' replied the adventurers in chorus.

"Then every one is ready to hear the document which
we ha ye. drawn up in eighteen articles, severally and con-
jointly, and which is hereby constituted a deed of partner-
ship thereunto founded and established."

The reply was affirmative and unanimous, Heinrich
Scharfenstein, as a matter of course, answering for himself
and his nephew.

' ' Then listen, ' ' said Procope.

And, after coughing and spitting, he began :

"We, the undersigned — "

"Excuse me," interrupted Lactance; "1 do not know
how to sign. ' '

"Parbkuf" said Procope; "as if it mattered! you will
make a cross. ' '

"Ah!" murmured Lactance, "that will make the pledge
only the more sacred. Continue, my brother. ' '

Procope resumed —

"We, the undersigned: Jean Chrysostome Procope — "

"You haven't a low opinion of yourself," said Yvonnet;
"you don't object to lead oft'."

"Somebody had to be first," returned Procope, inno-
cently.

"Good!" said Maldent; "continue."

Procope continued —

"Jean Chrysostome Procope, attorney -at- law, admitted
to practice at the bar of Caen, as also before the court of
Rouen, Cherbourg, Yalognes — "

" Oorbleu ! I am no longer surprised at the business tak-
ing up three hours and a half, if you have given every one

42 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

all his titles and degrees. What does surprise me is that
you should have got to the end of it at last. ' '

"No," said Procope; "I have comprised you all under
the same title. But, as the person responsible for the in-
strument, I judged it not only proper, but absolutely neces-
sary to give a full exposition of all my titles, degrees, and
qualities. ' '

"Oh, I see!" said Pilletrousse.

"Ah! get on, will you!" growled Malemort. "We shall
never get to the end if every fellow interrupts at each word.
I want to come to the fighting — that's what I want!"

"Faith," said Procope, "I'm not the one that interrupts,
as far as I can see. ' '

And he continued —

"Jean Chrysostome Procope, etc., Honore Joseph Mai-
dent, Victor Felix Yvonnet, Cyrille Nepomucene Lactance,
Cesar Hanibal Malemort, Martin Pilletrousse, Vittorio Al-
bani Fracasso, and Heinrich and Franz Scharfenstein — all
captains in the service of King Henry II. — '

A flattering murmur interrupted Procope, and no one
any longer dreamed of interfering with the titles and quali-
ties he had given himself, for each was busy in arranging on
his person a scarf, a napkin, a handkerchief, any rag that
could be made to look like a symbol of the rank in the
French service he had just received.

Procope gave time for the murmurs of applause to cease,
and continued —

' ' Have hereunto set forth, resolved, and — ' '

"Excuse me," said Maldent; "but the deed is null."

"Null! How?" said Procope.

"You forgot only one thing in your deed."

"What?"

"The date."

"The date is at the end."

"Oh," said Maldent, "that is another thing; still, it
would have been better if you had put it at the begin-
ning."

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 43

"The beginning or the end's all one," said Procope.
"The Institutes of Justinian say, positively: Omne actum
quo tempore scriptum sit, indicate; sen initio sen fine ut paci-
scentibus libuerit : which means: 'Every deed must bear its
proper date; but the contracting parties are at liberty to
place the date at the beginning or at the end of the said
deed.' '

"What hideous gibberish your law Latin is!" said Fra-
casso, "and how far removed from the language of Virgil
and Horace!"

And he began to scan lovingly those verses from the
third Eclogue of Virgil —

"Malo me Galatea petit, lasciva puella,
Et fugit ad salices, et se cupit ante videri."

"Silence, Fracasso!" said Procope.

"Oh, silence as much as you like," replied Fracasso.
"But it is not the less true that, great a man as was Jus-
tinian the First, I prefer Homer the Second to him, and I
would rather have made the Bucolics, the Eclogues, or even
the ^Eneid, than the Digest, Pandects, Institutes, and the
whole Corpus juris civilis."

There was undoubtedly going to be a dispute between
Fracasso and Procope on this important point — and only
God knows where it would have led the disputants ! — when
a kind of stifled cry was heard outside the grotto, and the
attention of the adventurers was drawn to the direction
whence it came.

Soon it was seen that the light of day was intercepted by
some opaque body which interposed between the artificial
and ephemeral glow of the torches and the divine and inex-
tinguishable ilium inati'on of the sun. At last, a being whose
species it was impossible to discern, so indefinite were its
lines in the demi- obscurity in which it moved, appeared,
and advanced into the centre of the circle, all making way
before it.

Then only, by the glare of the torch which lighted the

44 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

distorted group, was Franz Scharfenstein recognized, hold-
ing a woman in his arms, with his huge hand pressed against
her mouth, and doing duty as a sort of gag.

Each waited for the explanation of this new incident.

"Comrades," said the giant, "here is a little woman I
found prowling about the grotto; I caught her, and have
brought her to you. What is to be done with her ?"

"PardieuJ" said Pilletrousse, "release her. She won't
eat the whole nine of us, perhaps!"

"Oh! I'm not afraid of her eating the whole nine of us
either," said Franz, with his enormous laugh. "Wouldn't
I like to have the eating of her alone by myself, though !
Ja wohl!"

And, as Pilletrousse had invited him to do, he set her
in the middle of the circle, on her two feet, and withdrew
to the rear quickly.

The woman, who was young and pretty, and seemed, by
her costume, to be a respectable cook in some well-to-do
family, gave a frightened glance around her, and then at
each individual, as if to take stock of the company in the
centre of which she stood, and which her eyes told her, at
the first look, seemed rather mixed.

But her glance did not take in the whole circle, either;
it stopped at the youngest and most elegant of the adven-
turers.

"Oh, Monsieur Yvonnet, " she cried, "in the name of
Heaven, protect, defend me!" And, trembling, she ran
and threw her arms round the neck of the young man.

"Why!" said Yvonnet, "it is Mademoiselle Gertrude!"

And, pressing the young girl against his breast, to reas-
sure her, he said, "Pardieu! gentlemen, we shall now have
fresh news from the Chateau du Parcq; for this fair lady
has just come from it. ' '

Now, as any news promised by Yvonnet which should
come through the mouth of Mademoiselle Gertrude inter-
ested every one of them to the extremest degree, our adven-
turers at once abandoned, for the time, their deed of part-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 45

nership, and thronged round the two young persons, waiting
impatiently until the emotion to which Mademoiselle Ger-
trude was a prey permitted her to speak.

COUNT WALDECK

THERE was silence still for a few moments, after which
Mademoiselle Grertrude, evidently reassured by the
consoling words which Yvonnet whispered into her
ear, at last began her story.

But as this story, at one time interrupted by her own
excitement, at another by the interrogatories put to her by
the adventurers, might not have, for our readers, the limpid
clearness desirable, we shall, with their kind permission,
substitute our prose for that of the fair narrator, and, grasp-
ing the entire situation, relate, as plainly as we can, the
tragic event that forced the young girl to quit the Chateau
du Parcq, and led her into the midst of the adventurers.

Two hours after the departure of Yvonnet, at the mo-
ment when Mademoiselle Grertrude, doubtless a little fatigued
after her nocturnal conversation with the handsome Pari-
sian, decided at last to leave her bed and go down to her
mistress, who was for the third time calling her, a young
boy named Philippin, the son of the farmer, about sixteen
years old, entered the chamber of his mistress, quite scared,
and announced that a troop of forty or fifty men, belonging,
he thought from their black and yellow scarfs, to the army
of the Emperor Charles V. , was riding toward the chateau,
after making his father, who happened to be working in the
fields, prisoner.

Philippin, who was working himself some hundred yards
from the farmer, had seen the capture, and guessed by the
gestures of the soldiers and the prisoner that they were
speaking of the chateau. Then he had crept along until he

46 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

came to a path, which he saw would hide him from the view
of the troopers, and ran like the wind to give his mistress
notice of what was passing, and time to adopt the proper
resolution.

The chatelaine rose, went to the window, and, in fact,
saw that the troop was hardly a hundred yards from the
chateau. It consisted of about fifty men, as Philippin had
said, and appeared to be commanded by three leaders. The
farmer was walking beside one of them, with his hands tied
behind his back. The officer near whom he walked held
the end of the cord, undoubtedly with the object of prevent-
ing the farmer from attempting to escape, or, if he should
attempt, bringing him to a halt on the moment.

This sight was anything but reassuring. However, as
the horsemen, who were hastening to visit the chateau,
wore, as we have said, the scarf of the Empire; as the three
leaders who rode at their head had crowns on the crests of
their helmets and escutcheons on the breastplates of their
cuirasses ; as the orders of Duke Emmanuel Philibert with
regard to pillaging and marauding were positive ; as, in fine,
there was no way of escape, especially for a woman — the
chatelaine resolved to receive the arrivals in the best man-
ner possible. Consequently, she left her chamber, and,
descending the staircase, went, as a mark of honor to her
visitors, to receive them on the first step of the perron.

As to Mademoiselle Gertrude, her terror at the sight of
these men was so great that, instead of following her mis-
tress, as was perhaps her duty, she threw herself on Philip-
pin, begging him to point out some retreat where she could
hide during the stay of the soldiers in the chateau, and
where he, Philippin, could come from time to time, and
give her intelligence as to how the affairs of her mistress
were going on; for they certainly appeared to be in a bad
way at present.

Although Mademoiselle Gertrude had been a little rough
with Philippin for some time, and the latter, who -had vainly
sought for the cause of the change, had promised to himself

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 47

that, should she ever need his services, he would be in no
hurry to offer them, yet was Mademoiselle Gertrude so
beautiful in her terror, so seductive in her attitude of en-
treaty, that Philippin allowed himself to relent, and led
Mademoiselle Gertrude by the private staircase into the
yard, and from the yard into the garden, and there hid her
in a corner of the cistern, where his father stored his gar-
dening tools usually.

It was not likely that soldiers whose evident intention it
was to devote their attention to the pantries and cellars of
the chateau would search for her in a place where, as Philip-
pin wittily said, there was nothing to drink but water.

Mademoiselle Gertrude would have liked to keep Philip-
pin, and Philippin, perhaps, on his side, would have asked
nothing better than to remain with Mademoiselle Gertrude ;
but the beautiful child was even more curious than timid,
so that her desire for news got the better of her dread of
remaining alone.

For more security, moreover, Philippin put the key of
the cistern in his pocket, which at first disturbed Mademoi-
selle Gertrude somewhat, but, after due reflection, seemed,
on the contrary, rather reassuring.

Mademoiselle Gertrude held her breath and listened with
both her ears; she heard at first a great noise of arms and
horses, shouting and neighing; but, as Philippin had fore-
seen, the shouting and neighing seemed to be concentrated
in the chateau and its courts.

The prisoner was trembling with impatience and burning
with curiosity. She had been at the door more than once,
and tried to open it. If she had succeeded, she would very
certainly, although at the risk of encountering some un-
pleasant mishap in the enterprise, have tried to hear what
was saying or see what was doing by listening at the doors
and looking above the walls.

At last a step, as light as that of nocturnal animals prow-
ling around poultry-yards and sheep-folds, drew near the
cistern ; a key was introduced cautiously, turned gently in

48 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

the lock, and the door, slowly opened, was quickly shut
after giving entrance to Master Philippin.

"Well?" asked Gertrude, before even the door was
closed.

"Well, Mademoiselle Gertrude," said Philippin, "it
seems they are, in fact, gentlemen, just as Madame la
JBaronne had surmised. But what gentlemen, good God!
If you heard them curse and swear you would take them for
genuine pagans!"

"Great heavens! what is that you're telling me, Mon-
sieur Philippin?" -exclaimed the young girl, no,w quite
scared.

"The truth, mademoiselle; nothing but God's pure
truth! When the chaplain reprimanded them, they an-
swered that if he did not keep a quiet tongue in his mouth
they would make him sing Mass with his feet up and his
head down, and the rope of the belfry about his neck ; while
their chaplain, a regular heathen with beard and mustaches,
would read a service in which there were neither responses
nor questions. ' '

uBut, then," said Mademoiselle Gertrude, "they are not
real gentlemen, are they ?"

"Pardieuf they are; and among the best in Germany,
even! They were not ashamed to tell their names; and
that, you must acknowledge, was no small bravado, after
the way they conducted themselves. The oldest, a man of
fifty, or thereabout, is named Count Waldeck, and com-
mands four thousand reiters in the army of his Majesty
Charles Y. The two others, who may be from twenty-four
to twenty -five, and from nineteen to twenty, are his legiti-
mate son and his bastard. Only, from what I have seen —
and the thing is not unusual — he appears to be fonder of
the bastard than of the lawful heir. The legitimate son is
a handsome young man, with pale complexion, large brown
eyes, black hair and mustaches, and I have a fancy he might
be brought to listen to reason. The same can't be said of
the bastard, who is red- headed, and has the eyes of an owl.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 49

Oh, mademoiselle, he's a regular devil, that fellow! God
preserve you from meeting him! The way he looked at
Madame la Baronne! — It makes one shiver to think of it!"

"You don't say so?" said Mademoiselle Gertrude, who
was evidently curious to know what kind of a look is that
which makes one shiver.

' ' Oh, good God, yes, ' ' said Philippin, by way of perora-
tion ; ' ' and it was thus I left them — Now I am going back
for further news, and as soon as I have any, I'll let you
know. ' '

"Yes, yes," said Gertrude, "go! and return soon; but
take care that nothing happens to you. ' '

"Oh, don't be afraid, mademoiselle," replied Philippin;
"I never show myself except with a bottle in each hand;
and, as I know where to find the best wine, the rascals have
the greatest respect for me. ' '

Philippin left, and shut up Mademoiselle Gertrude, who
at once began to think within herself what kind of looks
those are that make one shiver. She had not yet solved the
difficulty, although she spent nearly an hour in trying, when
the key turned anew in the lock, and the messenger reap-
peared.

It was not that of the ark, and he was far from holding
an olive branch in his hand. Count Waldeck had, by
threats and even ill-treatment, forced the baroness to sur-
render her jewels, plate, and all the gold she had in the
chateau. But this had not satisfied them; and, after the
first ransom had been paid, the poor woman, at the very
moment she believed herself about to be rid of the noble
bandits who had asked her hospitality, had been, on the
contrary, seized, garroted, and locked up in her chamber,
with the assurance that if in two hours she did not find two
hundred rose nobles in her own purse or in that of her
friends, the chateau would be set on fire.

Mademoiselle Gertrude bewailed, according to all the
rules of propriety, the fate of her mistress ; but, as she had
not two hundred crowns to lend her, and thus extricate her

50 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

from her embarrassment, she tried to think of something
else, and asked Philippin what that infamous bastard of
Waldeck, of the red hair and terrible eyes, was doing ?

Philippin replied that the bastard of Waldeck was doing
his best to get drunk — an occupation in which he was power-
fully seconded by his father. The Vicomte Waldeck alone
was preserving, as far as possible, his coolness in the midst
of the pillage and the orgies.

Mademoiselle Gertrude had a furious craving to form
some idea of what these orgies might be, and to see them
with her own eyes. As to pillage, she knew that already,
having been present at the sack of Therouanne, but of what
are called orgies she had no notion.

Philippin explained that it was a meeting of men who
drank, and ate, and indulged in loose conversation, and
committed every sort of outrage on any woman that fell into
their hands.

The curiosity of Mademoiselle Gertrude was immensely
increased by this picture, which would have made a heart
less courageous than hers shudder. She therefore begged
Philippin to let her out, if it were only for ten minutes; but
he repeated to her so often and so seriously that by leaving
she ran a risk of her life, that she decided to remain in her
hiding-place, and await the third return of Philippin, before
settling, finally, on what she was to do.

This she had done before the return of Philippin. It
was, no matter what might happen, to force a passage out,
gain the chateau, slip along the secret corridors and private
staircases, and see with her own eyes what was passing —
any narrative, however eloquent, being always inferior to
the scene it attempts to paint.

As soon as she heard, for the third time, the key turn in
the lock, she prepared to dart from the cistern, whether
Philippin liked it or not; but when she saw his face, she
recoiled in terror.

Philippin was as pale as a corpse; his lips stammered
forth disconnected words, and his eyes had the haggard ex-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 51

pression of a man who has just witnessed some awful and
sombre event.

Gertrude wished to question him, but at the contact of
this unknown terror she felt frozen; the paleness of his
cheeks passed into her own, and, face to face with this grew-
some dumbness, she became dumb herself.

The young man, without saying anything, but with that
strength given by fright which is irresistible, seized her by
the wrist and dragged her toward the little gate of the gar-
den opening on the plain, stammering only these words —

"Dead — assassinated — stabbed !"

Gertrude made no resistance; Philippin let her go a mo-
ment to shut the gate behind them — a useless precaution,
for no one dreamed of pursuing them.

But the shock received by Philippin had been so rough
that the momentum impressed on him could not cease until
his strength failed him. At the end of five hundred yards
he fell, breathless, murmuring, in a hoarse voice, like that
of a man in the last agony, those frightful words, the only
ones he could utter —

' ' Dead — assassinated — stabbed !"

Then Gertrude cast her eyes around her: she was not
more than two hundred yards from the border of the forest ;
she knew the forest, she knew the grotto ; it was doubly a
refuge; besides, in the grotto she might perhaps find
Yvonnet.

She was quite remorseful at the notion of leaving poor
Philippin unconscious on the edge of a ditch; but she per-
ceived four or five horsemen coming in her direction. Per-
haps these men might be some of Count Waldeck's reiters;
she had not a second to lose if she wanted to escape. She
darted toward the forest, and, without looking behind her,
ran, frantic and dishevelled, until she crossed the border of
the wood. Then only did she stop, and, leaning against a
tree so as not to fall, she cast her eyes over the plain.

The horsemen reached the place where she had left
Philippin unconscious. They raised him up; but, seeing

(3)_Vol. 20

52 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

that lie could not move a step, one of them laid him across
the pommel of his saddle, and, followed by his comrades,
transported him to the camp.

The intentions of these men, however, seemed to be
good; and Gertrude began to think that the best thing for
Philippin was to fall into such humane hands.

Then, no longer anxious for the fate of her companion,
and having regained her breath in this halt, Gertrude began
again to run in the direction, or rather toward the point she
believed in the direction, of the grotto. She naturally went
astray ; and it was only at the end of an hour that she found
herself, by accident, chance, or instinct, in the neighbor-
hood of the grotto, and within reach of Franz Scharfenstein.

It is easy to guess the rest: Franz stretched out one hand
and encircled the waist of Gertrude, placed the other on her
mouth, and carried her as if she was a feather, then set
her in the midst of the adventurers in an altogether scared
condition, until, reassured by the sympathetic words of
YVonnet, she was able to begin the tale we have just told,
and which was received with a general cry of indignation
by the adventurers.

But, let not the reader be deceived, this indignation
sprang from an entirely selfish cause. The adventurers
were not indignant at the little morality displayed by the
marauders in connection with the Chateau du Parcq and its
inhabitants. No; they were indignant at Count Waldeck
and his sons having pillaged in the morning a chateau
which they had reckoned on pillaging in the evening.

This indignation was succeeded by a general hubbub,
which, in turn, was followed by a resolution, adopted unani-
mously, to go into the open and see at once what was pass-
ing in the direction of the camp, whither Philippin had been
transported, and in the direction of the chateau, where had
been accomplished the drama just related by Gertrude with
all the eloquence and all the energy of terror.

But the indignation of the adventurers did not exclude
prudence. It was then decided that a man of goodwill

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 53

should begin by exploring the wood, and render an ac-
count of the present condition of things to the adventur-
ers. Their action would depend on the motives for fear or
security supplied by this exploration.

Yvonnet offered to beat the wood. He was, besides, the
very man for the work: he knew all the turnings and twist-
ings of the forest; he was as agile as a stag and cunning as
a fox.

Gertrude broke into loud cries, and tried to prevent her
lover going on a dangerous mission. But she was made to
understand, without much ceremony, that the moment was
badly chosen for the display of her amorous susceptibilities,
which were likely to be anything but favorably appreciated
by the rather practical people among whom she found
herself. She was a sensible girl at bottom; she grew calm
when she saw that her cries and tears would not only have
no result, but might even turn out badly for her. Besides,
Yvonnet explained to her, in a low voice, that an adven-
turer's mistress ought not to affect the nervous sensibility
of a princess of romance, and, having placed her in the
hands of his friend Fracasso and under the special guard
of the two Scharfensteins, he quitted the grotto to accom-
plish the important mission which he had just undertaken.

Ten minutes after, he was back. The forest was per-
fectly deserted, and did not appear to offer any danger.

As the curiosity of the adventurers was almost as keenly
aroused in their grotto by the story of Mademoiselle Ger-
trude as the curiosity of Mademoiselle Gertrude had been
excited in her cistern by the "story of Philippin, and as old
freebooters of their stamp could not have the same motives
of prudence as those that direct the actions of a beautiful
and timid young girl, they left the cavern, abandoning
Procope's deed of partnership to the guardianship of the
genii of the place, invited Yvonnet to place himself at their
head, and, guided by him, they directed their course toward
the border of the wood, not without each making sure that
his dagger or sword had not rusted in the scabbard.

54 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

VI

THE JUSTICIARY

ACCOEDING as our adventurers advanced toward that
point of the forest which we have said stretched
out in the form of a lance-head in the direction of
Hesdin, stopping within a quarter of a league of it, and
separating the two basins of the plain already known to our
readers, a thick copse succeeded the larger trees, and by the
closeness of the trunks and the interlacing of the branches
afforded still greater security to such as took advantage of
its shade. It was, then, without being seen by any living
soul that the little band made its way to the outskirts
of the forest.

Nearly fifteen yards from the ditch that separated the
forest from the plain — a ditch which ran along the road
brought to the notice of our readers in the first chapter of
this work and forming a means of communication between
the Chateau du Parcq, the camp of the emperor, and the
neighboring villages — our adventurers halted.

The spot was well selected for such a purpose; a huge
oak, remaining with a few other trees of the same height
and the same size, to indicate the sort of giants that had
formerly fallen under the axe, spread its dome of foliage
above their heads, while, by advancing a few steps forward,
they could take in at a glance the whole plain, unseen
themselves.

All raised their eyes at the same time to the leafy crown
of the venerable tree. Yvonnet understood what was ex-
pected of him; he nodded consent and borrowed Fracasso's
tablets, containing one last, immaculate leaf, which the poet

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 55

showed him, at the same time recommending him to respect
the others, the depositaries of his romantic reveries. He.
planted one of the two Scharfensteins against the gnarled
trunk, not to be embraced, even by that giant's arms, placed
a foot on each of the German's hands, climbed to his shoul-
ders, from his shoulders to the branches, and was soon
seated astride, on a stout bough, with as much ease and
security as is a sailor on the yard of the maintop or jib-
boom.

During the ascent, Gertrude followed him with an anx-
ious eye ; but she had already learned to restrain her fears
and repress her cries. Besides, on seeing the carelessness
with which her lover took his station on the branch, the
readiness with which he turned his head left and right, she
knew that he was at least in no danger from one of those
fits of dizziness to which he was liable when nobody was
looking on.

But Yvonnet, in the meanwhile, with one hand shading
his eyes, was looking now north, now south, and appearing
to divide his attention between two spectacles equally inter-
esting.

These multiplied motions of the head strongly excited
the curiosity of the adventurers, who, lost in the depths of
the coppice, could see nothing of what Yvonnet was seeing
from the elevated region in which he was domiciled.

Yvonnet could understand their impatience, of which
they gave many signs by throwing back their heads, ques-
tioning him by a look, and even venturing to cry, in sup-
pressed tones, "What is happening?"

And among those who questioned by voice and gesture
we may be sure Mademoiselle Gertrude was not the least
animated.

Yvonnet made a sign with his hand, which meant that
if they waited a few seconds they should know as much as
he. He opened the tablets of Fracasso, tore out the last
blank page, wrote on this page a few lines in pencil, rolled
the paper between his fingers, in order that the wind might

56 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

not bear it away, and dropped it. All hands were stretched
out to catch it, even the white little hands of Mademoiselle
Gertrude; but it was between the huge paws of Franz
Scharfenstein that the paper fell.

The giant laughed at his good luck, and, passing the
paper to his neighbor, said, "Take it, Monsieur Procope;
I don't know how to read French."

Procope, not less curious than the others to know what
was passing, unfolded the paper, and amid general silence
read the following lines:

"The Chateau du Parcq is on fire.

"Count Waldeck, his two sons, and forty reiters have
appeared in the plain and are taking the direction of the
camp.

"They are about two hundred yards from the point of
the wood in which we are hidden.

"So much for my right.

"Now another little troop is following the road from
the camp to the chateau.

"It consists of seven men, a leader, squire, page, and
four soldiers.

' ' As well as I can judge from here, the leader is Duke
Emmanuel Philibert.

"His troop is nearly at the same distance on our left that
Waldeck 's is on our right.

"If the two troops march at the same speed, they ought
to meet at the point of the wood and find themselves face to
face at the moment they least expect it.

1 ' If Duke Emmanuel has been informed by M. Philippin,
as seems probable, of what occurred at the chateau, we are
about to see something curious.

"Attention, comrades; it is the duke, beyond doubt."

Here the note of Yvonnet ended. It was impossible to
say more things in fewer words, and to promise with more
simplicity a spectacle which, in truth, was likely to be very
curious, if the adventurer was not mistaken on the identity
and intentions of the parties.

Naturally, therefore, the several companions drew near
the outskirts of the wood with all sorts of precautions, in

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 57

order to witness with the greatest possible comfort and the
least possible danger the spectacle promised by Yvonnet, and
for observing which chance had given him the best place.

If the reader will follow the example of our adventurers,
we shall not trouble ourselves about Count Waldeck and
his sons, whose acquaintance we have made already through
the medium of Mademoiselle Gertrude, and, stealing across
the left border of the wood, we, too, shall put ourselves
in communication with the new personage announced by
Yvonnet, who, indeed, is no less a personage than the hero
of our story.

Yvonnet was not mistaken. The leader, advancing be-
tween his squire and page, and preceding a little troop
of four men-at-arms, as if there was only question of an
ordinary patrol, was really Duke Emmanuel Philibert,
generalissimo of the forces of the Emperor Charles Y. in
the Low Countries.

He was the more easily recognized because, instead of
wearing his helmet on his head, it hung on the left side
of his saddle, its constant position, in rain and sun, and
even sometimes in battle; from whence it was said his sol-
diers, seeing his insensibility to cold and heat and blows,
gave him the name of T&te de Per.

He was at the present time a handsome young man of
twenty- seven, of middle height, but vigorously built, with
hair cut very short, very clearly marked brown eyebrows,
keen blue eyes, and straight nose. He had a heavy mus-
tache, and a beard trimmed to a point; in fine, his neck
seemed pressed down on his shoulders, as happens almost
always in the case of the descendants of those warlike races
whose ancestors have worn the helmet for many generations.

When he spoke, his voice had at once infinite sweetness
and remarkable firmness. A strange characteristic of it was
that it could ascend to the expression of the most violent
menace without rising more than one or two tones; the as-
cendant gamut of anger was concealed in the almost imper-
ceptible gradations of the accent.

58 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

As a result, only his most intimate friends knew what
perils awaited those imprudent enough to arouse and brave
his anger — an anger so carefully restrained that its strength
could only be understood, and its extent measured, at the
moment when, preceded by the lightning of his eyes, it
burst forth, thundered, and pulverized like a bolt from
heaven. Then, the thunderbolt once fallen, the storm at
once ceases, and the weather is again serene; the explosion
over, the physiognomy of the duke recovered its habitual
serenity and calm: his eyes their look of placidity and
strength; his mouth its benevolent and royal smile.

As to the squire, riding at his right, with his visor up,
he was a fair young man of nearly the same age and of
exactly the same build as the duke. His clear blue eyes,
full of boldness and energy, his beard and mustaches, fair,
but with a warmer tint than that of his hair, his nose, with
the nostrils dilated like those of a lion, his lips, whose
plumpness and ruddiness the mustaches could not hide,
his complexion, rich with the double coloring of health and
exercise — all indicated the possession of the very highest
degree of physical strength. At his back — not girt to his
side — hung one of those terrible two-handed swords of
which Frangois I. broke three at the battle of Marignano,
and which, from their length, could only be drawn from
over the shoulder, while at the saddle-bow was one of those
battle-axes that had a blade on one side, was a club on the
other, and had a lance -head at the end, so that it could,
when occasion required, be used as a hammer to knock
a man down, an axe to cleave him in two, and a poniard
to stab him.

On the left of the duke was the page, a handsome lad of
from sixteen to perhaps, though scarcely, eighteen, with
blue-black hair, cut after the German fashion, as it is worn in
Holbein's knights and Eaphael's angels. His eyes, shaded
by long velvety lashes, were endowed with that elusive
shade which floats between chestnut and violet, and is only
met in Arab or Sicilian eyes. His olive complexion, of that

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 59

fine olive peculiar to the northern countries of the Italian
peninsula, resembled Carrara marble, whose paleness had
been longingly and amorously absorbed by a Roman sun.
His hands, small, white, and tapering, managed, with won-
derful skill, a little Tunis horse whose sole saddle was a
leopard's skin, with eyes of enamel, teeth and claws of gold,
a slender silken cord serving for bridle. As to his dress, at
once simple and full of elegance, it was composed of a
doublet of black velvet, opening on a cherry -colored vest
with white satin facings, and drawn in at the bottom by
a gold cord supporting a dagger, the handle of which was a
single agate. His feet, beautifully modelled, were shod with
morocco boots, and came up above the knee, the hose of the
same material and color as the doublet.

In fine, his forehead was covered by a cap of the same
stuff and color as the entire exterior part of his clothing.
A diamond agrafe held in front a cherry -colored plume
which rolled around it, floating at the least breath of air,
and falling gracefully between his shoulders.

And now that we have introduced our new characters,
we shall return to the action, which, interrupted for a mo-
ment, is about to unfold itself with still more vigor and
firmness than before.

In fact, during this description, Duke Emmanuel Phili-
bert, his two companions, and the four men of his suite
were proceeding on their way, without hurrying or slacken-
ing their horses' steps. Only, when they approached the
point of the wood, the face of the duke grew more sombre,
as if he had a presentiment that some spectacle of desola-
tion would meet his eyes, once that point was passed. But
suddenly, on arriving simultaneously at the extremity of
the angle, as had foreseen Yvonnet, the two troops found
themselves face to face, and, strange to say! it was the
stronger of the two that stopped, nailed to the spot by
a feeling of surprise, with which a little fear was obviously
mingled.

Emmanuel Philibert, on the contrary, without indicating

60 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

by a start, by a gesture, by a motion of his countenance,
the feeling, whatever it might be, which agitated him,
continued his course, riding straight up to Count Waldeck,
who awaited him, placed between his two sons.

At ten paces from the count, Emmanuel made a sign
to his squire, his page, and four soldiers, who halted with
a regularity and obedience quite military, and allowed him
to go on alone.

When he was just within reach of Vicomte Waldeck,
who happened to be stationed as a rampart between him
and his father, the duke halted in turn.

The three gentlemen saluted by raising their hands to
their helmets; but in raising his, the bastard of Waldeck
lowered his visor, as if to be ready for any eventuality.

The duke replied to the triple salutation by an inclina-
tion of his bare head.

Then, addressing Vicomte Waldeck in that dulcet voice
that made a harmony of his words —

"Vicomte," he said, "you are a brave and worthy gen-
tleman, one of those gentlemen whom I love, and whom my
august master, the Emperor Charles V. , loves. I have been
a long time thinking of doing something for you; but a
quarter of an hour ago the opportunity has presented itself,
and I have seized it. I have just been informed that a com-
pany of a hundred and twenty lances which I have ordered
to be levied, by command of his Majesty the Emperor, on
the left bank of the Khine, is assembled at Spires; I have
named you captain of this company. ' '

' ' Monseigneur — ' ' stammered the young man, astonished,
and blushing with pleasure.

"Here is your commission, signed by me, and sealed
with the seal of the Empire, ' ' continued the duke, drawing
from his breast a parchment which he presented to the
viscount; "take it, set out on the very instant, and without
a minute's delay. Gro, M. le Vicomte de Waldeck; show
yourself worthy of the favor granted you, and God keep
you!"

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 61

The favor was, in fact, great. And so the young man,
obedient to the order given him to set out at once, imme-
diately took leave of his father and brother, and, turning to
Emmanuel —

"Monseigneur, " said he, "you are truly a justiciary, as
you are called, for evil as well as for good, for the wicked
man as well as for the good man. You have had confidence
in me; that confidence shall be justified. Adieu, mon-
seigneur. ' ' And, spurring his horse to a gallop, the young
man disappeared at a corner of the wood.

Emmanuel Philibert followed him with his eyes until he
was entirely out of sight. Then, turning round, and fixing
a severe look on Count Waldeck —

"And now it is your turn, M. le Comte!" he said.

"Monseigneur, " interrupted the count, "let me first
thank your Highness for the favor you have just granted
my son. ' '

' ' The favor I have granted Vicomte Waldeck does not
deserve thanks," coldly replied Emmanuel, "since he has
merited it. But you heard what he said: I am a justiciary
for evil as well as for good, for the wicked man as well as
for the good man. Surrender your sword, M. le Comte!"

The count started, and, in an accent that clearly indi-
cated he would not easily obey the order just given him —

1 ' Surrender my sword ! And why ?"

"You know my orders forbidding pillage and maraud-
ing, under penalty of the lash for the common soldiers, and
court-martial or imprisonment for the officers. You have
violated my orders by forcibly entering the Chateau du
Parcq, in spite of the protest of your eldest son, and steal-
ing the gold, jewelry and plate of the chatelaine inhabiting
it. You are a marauder and a pillager; surrender your
sword, M. le Comte de Waldeck!"

The duke pronounced these words without the tone of
his voice visibly changing, except for his squire and page,
who, beginning to comprehend the situation, looked at each
other with a certain anxiety.

62 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Count Waldeck turned pale; but, as we have said, it
was difficult for a stranger to guess by the sound of Em-
manuel Philibert's voice the menacing nature of his anger
or his justice.

"My sword, monseigneur ?" said Waldeck. "Oh! I
must have committed some other misdeed ? A gentleman
does not surrender his sword for such a trifle 1" And he
tried to laugh disdainfully.

"Yes, monsieur, yes," returned Emmanuel, "you have
committed something else; but for the honor of the German
nobility I was silent about it. Do you wish me to speak ?
Be it so ; then listen. It did not suffice you to rob the mis-
tress of the house of her gold and jewelry and plate ; you
had her tied to the foot of her bed, and you said to her, 'If,
in two hours, you do not put two hundred rose nobles in
our hands, I shall set fire to your chateau!' You said this;
and as, at the end of the two hours, the poor woman, who
had given you her last pistole, found it impossible to hand
over the sum demanded, in spite of the prayers of your
eldest son, you set fire to the farm- buildings, in order that
the unhappy victim might have time to make her own reflec-
tions before the fire gained the chateau. Hold! you will
not attempt to say this is untrue: the smoke and flame can
be seen from here. You are an incendiary ; surrender your
sword, M. le Comte!"

The count ground his teeth, for he was beginning to
comprehend the extent of the resolution in the calm but
firm words of the duke.

"Since you are so well informed as to the beginning,
monseigneur," he said, "you are no doubt equally so as to
the end?"

' ' You are right, monsieur, I know everything ; but I
wanted to spare you the cord, which you deserve. ' '

"Monseigneur!" cried Waldeck, in a menacing tone.

"Silence, monsieur!" said Emmanuel Philibert; "re-
spect your accuser, and tremble before your judge! The
end? I am about to tell it to you. By the glare of the

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 63

flame already mounting into the air, your bastard, who had
the key of the room in which the prisoner was garroted,
entered that room. The unfortunate woman had not cried
on seeing the fire approaching her; that was only death.
She cried on seeing your bastard advance and seize her in
his arms, for that was dishonor ! Vicomte Waldeck heard
these cries, and ran up. He summoned his brother to re-
store the woman he was outraging to liberty ; but instead of
answering the appeal, he flung his prisoner, still garroted,
on the bed, and drew his sword. Yicomte Waldeck also
drew his, resolved to save this woman, even at the peril of
his life. The two brothers attacked each other furiously,
for there had been bitter hate between them for a long time.
You then entered, and, believing your sons to be fighting for
the possession of this woman, 'The fairest woman in the
world,' you said, lis not worth a single drop of blood from,
the veins of a soldier. Sheathe your swords, boys; I will
make you friends again. ' Then both the brothers lowered
their weapons at your command; you stepped between
them ; both followed you with their eyes, for they did not
know what you were about to do. You approached the
woman, and before either of your sons had time to prevent
the infamous deed, you drew your dagger and plunged it in
her breast. Do not say that this is not so ; do not say that
this is not true ; your dagger is still wet and your hands are
still bloody. You are an assassin; surrender your sword,
Count Waldeck!"

"That is easily said, monseigneur, " replied the count;
* k but a Waldeck would not surrender you his sword, prince
though you be, even if he stood alone against you seven ;
for a stronger reason, he will not, when he has his son on
his right and forty soldiers at his back. ' '

"Then," said Emmanuel, with a slight change in his
voice, "if you will not surrender it voluntarily, I must take
it by force. ' ' And, with a single bound, his horse was side
by side with Count Waldeck' s.

The latter was pressed too close to be able to draw his

64 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

sword; he reached his hand to his holsters; but, before he
could open them, Emmanuel Philibert had plunged his
hand in his, which were open beforehand, and drew a pistol,
ready loaded, from them.

The movement was so rapid that neither the bastard of
Waldeck, nor the squire, nor the page of the duke, nor
Count Waldeck himself foresaw it. Emmanuel Philibert,
with a hand steady and sure as that of justice, discharged
it at such close quarters that he burned the count's face, as
well as blew out his brains.

The count had hardly time to utter a cry; he opened his
arms, fell back slowly on the croup of his horse, like an
athlete whom some invisible wrestler was bending backward,
lost the spur from his left foot, then from his right, and
rolled heavily on the ground.

The justiciary had done justice: the count was killed
on the spot.

During all the time the scene lasted, the bastard of Wal-
deck, entirely sheathed in his iron mail, had remained as
motionless as an equestrian statue; but when he heard the
pistol-shot and saw his father fall, he uttered a hoarse cry
of rage, which was further roughened through the visor of
his helmet. Then, addressing the stupefied and frightened
reiters —

"Help, comrades!" he shouted in German; "this man is
not one of us. Death! death to Duke Emmanuel Phili-
bert!"

But the only reply of the reiters was a shake of the head
in sign of refusal.

"Ah!" cried the young man, allowing himself to grow
more and more enraged — "ah! you do not listen to me!
You refuse to avenge one who loved you as his children,
who loaded you with gold, who gorged you with booty!
Well, then, I will avenge him, since you are ingrates and
cowards!"

And he drew his sword, about to rush upon the duke.
But two reiters jumped to the head of his horse, seizing the

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 65

rein on each side of the bit, while a third clasped him in his
arms.

The young man struggled furiously, overwhelming those
who held him with insults.

The duke gazed on the spectacle with a certain pity; he
understood the despair of this son who had just seen his
father fall at his feet.

"Your Highness," said the reiters, "what orders have
you to give regarding this man, and what are we to do with
him?"

"Let him go free," said the duke. "He threatened me.
If I arrested him, he might believe I was afraid."

The reiters tore the sword from the hands of the bastard
and left him free.

The young man spurred his horse, which, at a single
bound, cleared the distance between him and Emmanuel
Philibert.

The latter awaited him with his hand on the trigger of
his second pistol.

"Emmanuel Philibert, Duke of Savoy, Prince of Pied-
mont," cried the bastard of Waldeck, extending his hand
toward him threateningly, "you understand, do you not,
that from this day there is between me and you mortal
hatred? Emmanuel Philibert, you have slain my father."
He lowered his visor. "Look well at my face, and every
time you see it again, by night or by day, at festival or in
battle, woe to you, Emmanuel Philibert!"

And he set out at full gallop, shaking his hand, as if to
hurl one more malediction at the duke, and crying again,
for the last time, "Woe!"

"Wretch!" shouted the squire of Emmanuel, spurring
his horse, in order to pursue him.

But the duke, making an imperative sign with his hand —

"Not a step further, Scianca-Ferro!" he said; "I forbid
you!"

Then, turning to his page, who, pale as death, seemed
ready to drop from the saddle —

66 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"What is the matter, Leone?" he said, approaching,
and offering his hand. "In truth, seeing you thus, wan
and trembling, one would take you for a woman!"

* ' Oh, my beloved duke, ' ' murmured the page, ' ' say again
that you are not wounded, or I die — "

"Child!" said the duke, "am I not under the hand of
God?"

Then, addressing the reiters —

"My friends," he said, pointing to the dead body of
Count Waldeck, "give this man Christian burial, and let
the justice I have executed on him be to you a proof that
in my eyes, as in those of the Lord, there are neither great
nor little."

And making a sign of the head to Scianca-Ferro and
Leone, he took the road to the camp with them, without
any trace remaining on his countenance of the terrible event
that had just taken place, except that the usual thoughtful
furrow on his forehead seemed a little more deepened than
customarily.

YII

HISTORY AND ROMANCE

WHILE the adventurers, visible witnesses of the
catastrophe we have related, after casting a
melancholy glance on the smoking ruins of
the Chateau du Parcq, are regaining their grotto, where
they will put their signatures to the deed of partnership,
become useless for the present, but likely to bear the most
marvellous results in the future for their nascent associa-
tion; while the reiters, obedient to the order given, or
rather to the recommendation made, to procure Christian
sepulture for their dead leader, are about to dig the grave
of him who, having received the punishment of his crime
on earth, rests now in the hope of divine mercy; while, in

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 67

fine, Emmanuel Philibert reaches his tent with his squire
and page 011 each side of him — let us, abandoning the pro-
logue, mise en sctne, and secondary characters of our drama
for the real action and principal characters about to come
on the stage, let us venture, in order to give the reader a
more ample knowledge of their disposition and moral and
political situation, on an excursion at once historical for
some, and romantic for others, into the domain of the past,
that splendid realm of the poet and historian, which no
revolution can wrest from them.

Emmanuel Philibert, third son of Charles III. the Good
and Beatrix of Portugal, was born in the castle of Chambery
on the 8th of July, 1528.

He received his double name Emmanuel Philibert for
the following reasons: Emmanuel, in honor of his maternal
grandfather Emmanuel, King of Portugal, and Philibert,
in virtue of a vow made by his father to Saint Philibert
of Tournus.

He was born at four in the afternoon, and appeared so
weak at his entrance into life that the respiration of the
infant was supported solely by the breath introduced into
his lungs by one of the women of his mother; and until he
was three years old he remained with his head inclined on
his breast, and was unable to stand on his legs. So, when
his horoscope was drawn, as was then customary at the birth
of every prince, and it was predicted that the new-born child
was to be a great warrior, and glorify the House of Savoy
with a splendor brighter than it had received from Peter,
surnamed the Little Charlemagne, or Amadeus Y., called
the Great, or Amadeus VI., vulgarly styled the Green Count,
his mother could not help shedding tears, and his father, a
resigned and pious prince, saying, with a shake of the head
and an expression of doubt, to the mathematician who made
the prediction:

"May God hear you, my friend!"

Emmanuel Philibert was the nephew of Charles V. by
his mother Beatrix of Portugal, the fairest and most accom-

68 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

plished princess of her time, and cousin of Frangois L, by
his aunt, Louise of Savoy, under whose pillow the Conne*-
table de Bourbon claimed to have left the cordon of the
Order of the Holy Ghost, which Frangois I. ordered him
to return.

Another of his aunts was that vivacious Margaret of
Austria, who left a collection of songs in manuscript still
to be seen in the national library of France, and who, when
attacked by a storm at the time she was going to Spain to
marry the son of Ferdinand and Isabella, after having been
betrothed to the Dauphin of France and to the King of Eng-
land, made, under the impression she was going to die, this
curious epitaph on herself —

Weep, Loves, the fate of Margaret here laid,
"Who thrice betrothed was, yet died a maid.

As to Emmanuel Philibert, he was, as we have said, so
weak that, in spite of the prediction of the astrologer that
he would be a powerful warrior, his father destined him for
the Church. So, at the age of three, he was sent to Bologna
to kiss the feet of Pope Clement VII., who, coming thither
to give the crown to his uncle, the Emperor Charles V. , and
on the recommendation of the latter, the young prince ob-
tained the promise of a cardinal's hat. Hence his surname
of the Cardinalin, given him in childhood, and which used
to enrage him.

Why should this name enrage the child ? We are about
to see.

The reader remembers that woman, or rather that friend,
of the Duchess of Savoy, who had breathed life into the lit-
tle Emmanuel Philibert an hour after his birth, and just as
he was about to expire. Six months before, she had had a
son who came into the world as strong and vigorous as that
of the duchess had come weak and languishing. Now, the
duchess, seeing her son thus saved, said to her:

' ' My dear Lucrezia, this child is now as much yours as
mine; 1 give him to you. Take him, nourish him with your

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

milk as you have nourished him with your breath, and E
shall owe you more than even he does ; for he will only owe
you life, but I shall owe you my child!"

Lucrezia received the child, of whom she was now made
the mother, as a sacred trust. And yet it looked as if this
must work some injury to the little Kinaldo — it was the
name of her own son — if the heir of the Duke of Savoy
was to recover life and strength by depriving his foster-
brother of a portion of that nutriment which was his due.

But Einaldo at six months was stronger than another
child would have been at the end of a year. Besides, Na-
ture has her miracles, and the two infants drew life from
the same paps without the source of the maternal milk
being for a moment exhausted.

The duchess smiled as she saw, hanging from the same
living trellis, this stranger child so strong, and her own
child so feeble.

For that matter, it might be said that little Einaldo un-
derstood this feebleness, and had compassion on it. Often
the capricious ducal baby wanted the pap at which the other
was drinking ; and the latter, a smile on his lips white with
milk, gave place to his imperious foster-brother.

Thus the two children grew on the knees of Lucrezia.
At three Einaldo seemed to be five; at three, as we have
said, Emmanuel Philibert hardly walked, and only with an
effort raised his head from his breast. This was the time of
the journey to Bologna, when Pope Clement VII. promised
him the cardinal's hat.

It looked as if this promise brought him good fortune,
and this name of Cardinalin won him the protection of (rod;
for when he passed his third year, his health improved and
his body grew vigorous.

But the one who in this respect made the most marvel-
lous progress was Einaldo. His most solid playthings flew
into pieces under his fingers ; he could not touch any one of
them without breaking it.

Then his toys were made of steel, but he broke them as

70 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

if they were china. And so it was that the good Duke
Charles III., who amused himself with seeing the children
at their games, called the companion of Emmanuel Philibert
Scianca- Ferro, which in the Piedmontese patois signifies,
Brise-Fer.

The name remained to him. And the remarkable thing
was that Scianca- Ferro never used this miraculous strength
except to protect Emmanuel, whom he adored instead of
being jealous of him, as might perhaps have happened in the
case of another child.

As to young Emmanuel, he envied very much his foster-
brother's strength, and would have willingly exchanged his
nickname of Cardinalin for that of Scianca- Ferro.

However, he seemed to gain a certain vigor from this
companionship with a vigor greater than his own. Scianca-
Ferro, bringing his strength down to the level of the young
prince's, wrestled with him, ran with him, and, not to dis-
courage him, allowed himself sometimes to be outstripped
in the race and vanquished in the wrestling- bout.

All exercises — riding, swimming, fencing — were common
to them. In all, Scianca- Ferro was the superior. But it
was, after all, only an affair of chronology; and Victor Em-
manuel, though holding back, had not yet said his last word.

The two children were inseparable, and loved each other
like brothers. Each was jealous of the other, as a mistress
might have been of her lover; and yet the time was ap-
proaching when a third companion, whom they would adopt
with equal affection, was to mingle in their games.

One day when the court of Charles III. was at Yerceil,
on account of certain disturbances that had broken out at
Milan, the two lads, in company with their riding-master,
made a lengthy journey on horseback along the left bank of
the Sesia, passed by Novara, and ventured almost up to the
Ticino. The horse of the young duke was in front, when
suddenly a bull, shut up in a pasture- field, breaking through
the barriers by which he was imprisoned, frightened the
horse of the prince. The animal ran away with him, cross-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 71

ing meadows, and leaping over streams, bushes, and hedges.
Emmanuel was an admirable rider, so there was nothing to
be feared; however, Scianca-Ferro rushed after him, taking
the same course he did, and, like him, leaping over all the
obstacles he encountered. The riding-master, more prudent,
went round by a circular line, which was likely to lead him
to the point the two young people were making for.

After a quarter of an hour's reckless racing, Scianca-
Ferro, no longer seeing Emmanuel, and fearing he had met
with some accident, called with all his might. Two of these
appeals remained unanswered; at last he thought he heard
the prince's voice in the direction of Oleggio. He turned
his horse on that side, and soon, in fact, guided by the
voice of Emmanuel, he found his comrade on the banks
of an affluent of the Ticino.

At his feet was a dead woman, and in her arms a little
boy, almost dying, of from four to five years.

The horse, which had grown calm, was quietly browsing
the young shoots of the trees, while his master was trying
to restore consciousness to the child. As to the woman,
nothing could be done for her; she was quite dead.

She appeared to have succumbed to fatigue, misery, and
hunger. The child, who had undoubtedly shared the mis-
ery and fatigue of his mother, seemed nearly dead from
exhaustion.

The village of Oleggio seemed only a mile from there.
Scianca-Ferro set his horse to a gallop, and disappeared in
the direction of the village.

Emmanuel would have gone there himself, instead of
sending his brother; but the child clung to him, and, feel-
ing that there was still a bare chance for its life, he did not
wish to leave it.

The poor little thing had drawn him quite near the
woman, and was saying, with that heartrending accent
of childhood, unconscious of its misfortune — -

"Wake up, mamma! please waken, mamma!"

Emmanuel wept. What could he do, poor child, now

72 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

seeing, for the first time, the spectacle of death ? He had
only his tears, and he gave them.

Scianca-Ferro reappeared; he brought bread and a flask
of Asti wine. They tried to introduce a few drops between
the lips of the mother — a vain effort: she was but a corpse.
There was nothing to be done, therefore, except for the
child.

The child, while weeping because his mother would not
waken, drank and ate, and recovered a little strength.

At this moment the peasants, whom Scianca-Ferro had
summoned, arrived. They had met the riding-master, who
was quite scared at the disappearance of his two pupils, and
led him to the place appointed by Scianca-Ferro.

They then knew that they were acting for the young
Prince of Savoy; and as Duke Charles was adored by his
subjects, they at once offered to execute whatever orders
Emmanuel might give with regard to the mother and child.

Emmanuel selected from among the peasants a woman
who looked kind-hearted and good; he gave her all the
money he and Scianca-Ferro had on them, took her name
down in writing, and begged her to see after the mother's
funeral and the most pressing needs of the child.

Then, as it was growing late, the riding-master insisted
on his two pupils turning their horses' heads toward Ver-
ceil. The little orphan wept bitterly; he did not want to
quit his good friend Emmanuel, for he knew his name,
though not his rank. Emmanuel promised to return to see
him; this promise quieted him somewhat; but as long as he
could see him he continued to stretch out his arms toward
the savior chance had brought him.

And, in truth, if the succor sent by chance, or rather,
by Providence, to the poor child, had been delayed even
two hours, he would have been found dead beside his
mother.

Notwithstanding all the diligence of the riding-master,
the evening was far advanced when they reached the castle
of Verceil. There had been considerable anxiety about

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 73

them, and messengers sent in all directions. The duchess
was preparing to give them a good scolding when Emman-
uel began his story, relating it in his sweet voice, whose
tones were instinct with the sadness the gloomy event had
impressed on his soul. The story finished, no one thought
of scolding, but rather of praising the children; and the
duchess, sharing the interest felt in the orphan by her son,
declared that on the day after the funeral of the mother,
she would pay him a visit.

And on the day appointed, the duchess set out in a lit-
ter, accompanied by the two young comrades on horseback.

On arriving near the village, Emmanuel could not re-
strain himself; he set spurs to his horse and rode at full
speed to see the little orphan again.

His arrival was a great joy for the unfortunate child.
It had been necessary to tear him away from the body of
his mother; he would not believe she was dead, and never
ceased crying —

' ' Do not put her in the ground ; do not put her in the
ground! I promise you she will awaken!"

Ever since his mother had been borne from the house,
they had had to lock him up; he wanted to go and stay
with her.

The sight of his savior consoled him a little.

Emmanuel told him his mother desired to see him, and
was about to arrive.

"And you have a mamma also ?" said the orphan. "Oh,
I shall pray to God not to let her go to sleep so as not to
waken any more!"

It was great news that Emmanuel gave the peasants —
this coming of the duchess into their house; and as they
told it everywhere, people flocked from all quarters of the
village in the direction she was coming.

So there was soon quite a procession, which arrived,
preceded by Scianca-Ferro, who had gallantly remained to
act as squire to the duchess.

Emmanuel presented his protege to his mother. The

74 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

duchess asked the child what Emmanuel had forgotten
to ask him; that is to say, what was his name, and who
was his mother.

The child replied that he was called Leone and his
mother Leona; but he would not give any other details,
answering to all the questions put to him, " I do not know. ' '

And yet, strange to say, it was easy to guess that this
ignorance was feigned and that it concealed a secret.

Undoubtedly, his mother, when dying, had advised him
to only answer as he answered; and, indeed, nothing but
the last recommendation of a dying mother could make
such an impression on a child of four years.

Then the duchess studied the child with a curiosity alto-
gether feminine. Although his dress was coarse, the hands
were delicate and white; it was easily seen that a mother,
and an elegant and refined mother, had taken care of those
hands. At the same time, his language was that of the
aristocracy, and he spoke French and Italian equally well.

The duchess ordered the dress of his mother to be
brought to her; it was that of a peasant.

But the peasants who had undressed her said they never
had seen a whiter skin, more delicate hands, or feet more
small and elegant.

Moreover, one circumstance betrayed the class of society
to which the poor woman must have belonged ; though her
garb was that of a peasant, rough shoes and drugget gown,
she wore silk stockings.

Clearly she had fled in disguise; and of all her garments
had only kept the silk stockings which betrayed her after
her death.

The duchess returned to Leone and questioned him on
all these points; but his constant answer was, "I do not
know. ' ' She could not get any other reply from him. She
recommended anew the poor orphan to the care of the
worthy peasants, giving them double the sum they had
already received, and charged them to make inquiries
about the mother and child in the neighborhood, promis-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 75

ing them a liberal reward if they were able to give her
any information.

Little Leone made the greatest efforts to follow Em-
manuel; and Emmanuel was very near begging his mother
to let him take him with him, so genuine was the pity he
felt for the orphan. He promised Leone then that he would
return to see him as soon as possible, and the duchess her-
self declared she would pay him a second visit.

Unfortunately, about this same period occurred events
that compelled the duchess to break her promise. For the
third time Franyois I. declared war on Charles V., on ac-
count of the duchy of Milan, which he claimed to inherit
through Valentine Visconti, wife of Louis d' Orleans,
brother of Charles VI.

The first time Frangois had won the battle of Mari-
gnano. The second time he had lost the battle of Pavia.

After the treaty of Madrid, after the prison of Toledo,
after, above all, he had pledged his faith, it would have
been allowable to imagine that Fra^ois I. had renounced
all claim to this unfortunate duchy, which, if won by him,
would have made the King of France a vassal of the Em-
pire. But it was quite the contrary ; he was only waiting
for an opportunity to lay claim to it again, and he seized
the first that presented itself.

It was good, luckily ; but if it had been bad, he would
have seized it all the same.

Francois I. , we know, was not scrupulous as to a viola-
tion of those silly delicacies that often hamper those donkeys
known by the name of honest men.

The following, then, was the opportunity placed within
his reach.

Maria Francesco Sforza, son of Ludovico the Moor,1
was reigning over Milan; but he was reigning under the
complete guardianship of the Emperor, from whom he had
purchased, on the 23d of December, 1529, his duchy for

1 Many historians believe that he derived his surname, il Moro, not from his
swarthy complexion, but from the mulberry-tree in his coat of arms.

(4)— Vol. 20

76 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

two hundred thousand ducats, payable during the first
year of his reign, and five hundred thousand payable in
the two following years.

As security for these payments, the castle of Milan,
Como, and Pavia remained in the hands of the Imperialists.

Now it happened that, toward 1535, a Milanese gentle-
man, whose fortune Frangois I. had made, was accredited
as ambassador of France at the court of Duke Sforza.

This gentleman was named Francesco Maraviglia. Hav-
ing grown very rich at the court of France, Francesco Mara-
viglia was at once proud and happy to return to his natal
city with all the pomp of an ambassador.

He brought with him his wife and daughter, then three
years old, leaving in Paris, among the pages of King Fran-
gois, his son Odoart, aged twelve years.

How did this ambassador come to offend Charles V.?
"Why did he invite Sforza to get rid of him on the first op-
portunity ? This is unknown, and can only be known when
the secret correspondence of the Emperor with the Duke of
Milan is discovered, as was his secret correspondence with
Cosmo de Medicis. But, however, it happened that when
there was an accidental quarrel between some subjects of
Sforza and the servants of the ambassador, in which two
of the former were slain, Maraviglia was arrested and con-
ducted to the castle of Milan, held, as we have said, by
the Imperialists.

What became of Maraviglia? No one ever knew for
certain. Some said he had been poisoned; others, that,
having missed his footing, he had fallen into an oubliette,
the neighborhood of which they neglected to warn him of.
In fine, the most probable version and the one most believed
was that he had been executed, or rather assassinated, in
prison. The certain fact, however, is that he had disap-
peared, and with him, almost at the same time, his wife
and daughter, without leaving a trace behind them.

These events had occurred quite recently, scarcely more
than a few days before the meeting between Emmanuel and

CAPTAIN PLANCHET

Dtniias, I'ol. Twenty

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 11

the dead woman and her abandoned child on the banks of
a little stream. They were to have a terrible effect on the
destiny of Duke Charles.

Frangois I. seized the opportunity by the hair.

It was not the lamentations of the child beside him de-
manding vengeance for the murder of his father; it was not
the royal majesty outraged in the person of an ambassador ; it
was not, in fine, the law of nations violated by an assassination,
which inclined the balance to the side of war. No ; it was the
old leaven of vengeance fermenting in the heart of him who
had been vanquished at Pavia and a prisoner in Toledo.

A third expedition to Italy was resolved on.

The moment was well chosen. Charles V. was in Africa
fighting against the famous Khair-Eddin, surnamed Bar-
barossa.

But to accomplish this fresh invasion, it was necessary
to pass through Savoy. Now Savoy was held by Charles
the Good, father of Emmanuel Philibert, uncle of Frangois
L, and brother-in-law of Charles V.

For whom would Charles the Good declare himself ?
Would it be for his nephew ? It was an important thing
to know.

But it was suspected what his action would be; all the
probabilities pointed to the Duke of Savoy being the ally
of the Empire and the enemy of France.

In fact, as a pledge of his faith, the Duke of Savoy had
intrusted to Charles V. his eldest son Louis, Prince of Pied-
mont. He had refused to receive the order of Saint Michael
from Frangois I. and a company of artillery with a pension
of twelve thousand crowns; he had occupied the lands of
the marquisate of Saluce, a transferable fief in Dauphine.
He refused homage to the crown of France for that of
Faucigny. He had expressed his satisfaction at the defeat
of Pavia in letters to the Emperor. In fine, he had loaned
money to the Connetable de Bourbon, when the latter
traversed his states in order to go and get killed by Ben-
venuto Cellini at the siege of Eome.

78 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Still, it was necessary to be sure if the doubts were well
founded.

With this object, Franyois I. sent to Turin Gruillaume
Poyet, President of the Parliament of Paris. The latter
was instructed to ask Charles two things —

The first was a passage for the French army through
Savoy and Piedmont.

The second, the delivery, as places of security, of Mont-
melian, Veillane, Chivas, and Verceil.

In exchange, he offered to Duke Charles to give him
lands in France, and to give his daughter Marguerite in
marriage to Prince Louis, eldest brother of Emmanuel
Philibert.

Charles III. deputed Purpurat, the Piedmontese presi-
dent, to discuss matters with Gruillaume Poyet, the Presi-
dent of the Parliament of Paris. The former was author-
ized to permit the passage of the French troops through
the two provinces of Savoy and Piedmont ; but he was first
to parry diplomatically the demand for the surrender of the
fortresses, and then, if Poyet insisted, to give an absolute
refusal.

The discussion grew warm between the two plenipo-
tentiaries, until at last Poyet, routed by the reasoning of
Purpurat, exclaimed:

"It shall be so, because the king wills it!"

"Excuse me," replied Purpurat; "but I do not find that
law among the laws of Piedmont. ' '

And, rising, he abandoned the future to the omnipotent
will of the King of France and to the wisdom of the Most
High.

The conferences were broken up, and in the course of
the month of February, 1535, Duke Charles being in his
castle of Yerceil, a herald was introduced into his presence,
who declared war against him in the name of King Fran-
9ois I.

The duke heard him tranquilly, then when he had fin-
ished his warlike message —

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"My friend," he said in a calm voice, ''I have rendered
only services to the King of France, and I have thought
that the titles of ally, friend, servant, and uncle might have
met with a better return. I have done what I could to live
on a good understanding with him ; I have neglected noth-
ing that could prove to him how wrong he is to be irritated
against me. But since he will in no manner listen to reason,
and appears determined to take possession of my states, tell
him that he shall find me on the frontier, and that, seconded
by my friends and allies, I hope to defend and preserve my
country. The king my nephew knows, besides, my motto:
'Nothing fails him to whom (rod is left!' '

And he dismissed the herald, after ordering a very rich
dress and a pair of gloves filled with crowns to be given
him.

After such a reply there was nothing for it but to pre-
pare for war.

The first resolution adopted by Charles III. was to secure
the safety of his wife and son by placing them in the fort-
ress of Nice.

The departure for Nice was therefore announced as very
near.

Then Emmanuel Philibert decided that the time had
come to obtain from his mother a favor he had delayed
asking until now; namely, permission to take Leone away
from his peasant home, where, for that matter, he had been
left only provisionally, as it had been agreed to make him,
as well as Scianca, a companion of the young prince.

The Duchess Beatrix, as we have already said, was a
woman of judicious mind. Everything she had remarked
in the orphan — the delicacy of his features, the fineness of
his hands, the distinction of his language — led her to be-
lieve that some great mystery was hidden under the rude
garb of mother and child. The duchess, besides, was a
woman of religious heart; she saw the hand of Grod in this
meeting between Leone and Emmanuel, brought about by
an accident — an accident almost providential, since it had

80 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

no other result than to conduct the young prince to the
dead woman and the expiring child. She thought that at
the moment when her family was losing everything, when
misfortune was approaching her house, and when the angel
of darkness was pointing out to her and her husband and
child the mysterious road of exile, it was not the hour to
repulse the orphan, who, grown to manhood, would per-
haps one day become a friend. She recalled the messenger
of (rod presenting himself as a simple traveller on the
threshold of the blind Tobias, to whom, by the hands of
his son, he restored later joy and light; and, far from
resisting the prayer of Emmanuel, at the first word he
said, she anticipated it, and with the permission of the
duke, authorized her son to transport his protege to Yerceil.

From Verceil to Nice, Leone was to make the journey
with the two other children.

Emmanuel did not wait longer than the next day to an-
nounce the good news to Leone. At daybreak he descended
to the stables, saddled himself his little Barbary horse, and,
leaving to Scianca the care of the rest, started for Oleggio
with all the speed possible.

He found Leone very sad. The poor orphan had also
heard that his rich and powerful protectors were, in their
turn, visited by misfortune. They had spoken of the de-
parture of the court for Nice — that is to say, for a country
whose very name was unknown to Leone; and when Em-
manuel arrived, breathless from his race and sparkling with
joy, Leone was weeping as if he had a second time lost his
mother.

It is through tears especially that children see the angels.
We do not exaggerate in saying that Emmanuel appeared
like an angel through the tears of Leone.

In a few words everything was said, explained, and set-
tled, and smiles succeeded tears. There is with man — and
it is his happy time — a period when tears and smiles touch
each other as the night touches the dawn.

Two hours after Emmanuel, Scianca- Ferro arrived with

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the first equerry of the prince and two grooms, holding by
the bridle the favorite pony of the duchess. A considera-
ble sum of money was bestowed on the peasants, who had
for six weeks taken care of Leone. The latter embraced
them, weeping again. But this time tears of joy were min-
gled with tears of regret. Emmanuel assisted him to mount,
and for fear any accident might happen to his dear protege,
he himself wished to lead the pony by the bridle.

Instead of being jealous of this new friendship, Scianca-
Ferro galloped along quite joyous, going and returning, ex-
amining the route as if he had been a real captain, and smil-
ing with that fine boyish smile that discloses the teeth and
the heart at the same time, on the friend of his friend.

It was in this manner they arrived at Yerceil. The
duchess and the duke embraced Leone, and Leone was
one of the family.

The next day they set out for Nice, which they reached
without any accident.

VIII

SQUIRE AND PAGE

IT IS not our intention — God forbid ! others having done
it much better than we could — it is not our intention,
we repeat, to relate the wars of Italy, and write the
history of the great rivalry that desolated the beginning
of the sixteenth century. No, God has happily, in this
case at least, assigned us a more humble task; but still,
we must be permitted to say, a task more picturesque for
ourselves and more amusing for our readers. We shall,
therefore, see, in the narrative about to follow, only the
summits of great events, which, like unto the topmost ridges
of the Alps, lift above the clouds their peaks covered with
eternal snows.

82 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Frangois I. broke through Savoy, crossed Piedmont, and
spread over Italy.

For three years the cannon of France and of the Empire
thundered, now in Provence, now in the duchy of Milan.

Fair plains of Lombardy, only the Angel of Death can
tell how many corpses were needed to give you your inex-
haustible fertility.

During this time, under the lovely sky of Nice, all azure
in daytime, all flame at night, when the very insects of dark-
ness are winged sparks, the children grew up under the look
of the Princess Beatrix, and under the eye of God.

Leone had become an indispensable member of the joy-
ous trinity; he shared in all the sports, but not in all the
exercises. The too violent studies of the art of war did not
suit his little hands, and his arms seemed to the masters of
this art too weak ever to bear in martial fashion the lance
or the buckler. It is true Leone was three years younger
than his companions. But it appeared as if in reality there
were ten years' difference between them, particularly since
— undoubtedly by the grace of the Lord, who was reserving
him for great things — Emmanuel had begun to grow in
health and strength, as if he had set himself the task of
gaming in this respect the distance in the race in which
he had been outstripped by his foster-brother, Scianca-
Ferro.

And so their respective offices fell quite naturally to
the companions of the little duke. Scianca-Ferro became
his squire, and Leone his page.

Meanwhile news came that Prince Louis, the eldest son
of the duke, had died at Madrid.

It was a great sorrow for Duke Charles and Duchess
Beatrix. But with the sorrow God gave them the conso-
lation, if in truth there be any consolation for a father and,
above all, for a mother, in the death of their offspring.
Prince Louis had been for a long time a stranger to his
parents; while, under the eyes of the duke and duchess,
Emmanuel Philibert, who appeared every day to do more

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and more credit to the prediction of the astrologer, was
flourishing like a lily, growing vigorous as an oak.

But God, who had doubtless wished only to try the ex-
iles, before long struck them with a still more cruel blow.
The Duchess Beatrix fell sick of some disease that ex-
hausted all her vitality; and in spite of the art of physi-
cians, and the care of her husband, child, and attendants,
she expired on the 8th of January, 1538.

The duke's grief was deep, but religious; that of Em-
manuel bordered on despair. Happily the ducal child had
near him that other child who knew what were tears. What
would have become of him without this gentle companion,
who did not try to console him, and who was contented to
mingle his own tears with his ? — this was all his philosophy.

Undoubtedly Scianca-Ferro also suffered from this loss;
if he could have restored life to the duchess by going in
search of some terrible giant and challenging him in his
castle, or defying some fabulous dragon in his cavern, this
paladin of eleven years would have set out on the very in-
stant, and without hesitation, to accomplish this exploit ; for
though he lost his life in the enterprise, would it not give
back joy and happiness to his friend ? But this was the
limit of all the consolation he could offer ; his robust nature
did not lend itself kindly to enervating weeping. A wound
might make his blood flow; no sorrow would make his tears
flow. What was necessary to Scianca-Ferro was dangers to
vanquish, not misfortunes to endure.

And so what was he doing while Emmanuel Philibert
was weeping, with his head resting on the shoulder of
Leone ? He was saddling his horse, girding on his sword,
hanging his club from his saddle-bows, and wandering
through that beautiful stretch of hills which borders the
Mediterranean. Like a mastiff whose rage is excited against
sticks and stones, which he grinds between his teeth, he was
figuring to his imagination that he was dealing blows at the
heretics of Germany or the Saracens of Africa, was making
fantastic enemies out of insensible and inanimate objects,

84 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

and, in default of cuirasses to batter and helmets to cleave,
was breaking rocks with his mace and splitting pines and
oaks with his sword, seeking and finding a relief for his sor-
row in the violent exercises suited to his rude organization.

Hours, days, and months slipped by; tears were dried.
The grief, living at the bottom of the heart as a gentle re-
gret and tender memory, disappeared gradually from the
countenance; eyes that searched in vain for the spouse,
mother, and friend here below were raised to heaven, seek-
ing for the angel there.

The heart that turns to God is very close to conso-
lation.

Moreover, events continued their march, imposing on
sorrow itself a powerful distraction.

A congress had been decided on, to be participated in
by Pope Paul III. (Alexander Farnese), Frangois I., and
Charles "V. The subjects of discussion were : the expulsion
of the Turks from Europe, the creation of a duchy for Louis
Farnese, and the restitution to the Duke of Savoy of his
states. The congress was to be held at Nice.

Nice had been selected by the Pope and by Charles V.,
in hopes that Frangois L, in recognition of the hospitality
received from his uncle, would be more ready for con-
cessions.

Then there was also a kind of understanding to be
brought about between Pope Paul III. and Charles V.

Alexander Farnese had given his eldest son Louis the
duchies of Parma and Placentia, in exchange for the prin-
cipalities of Camerino and Nepi, which he had just taken
from him to give to his second son Octavio. This investi-
ture was displeasing to Charles V., who had lately refused
to grant the Pope, on the death of Maria Francesco Sforza
in 1535, that famous duchy of Milan that was, if not the
cause, at least the pretext of this interminable war between
France and the Empire; and this he did, disregarding any
amount of money offered, however large.

For that matter, Charles V. was quite right; the new

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Duke of Parma and Placentia was that infamous Louis Far-
nese who used to say he did not care to be loved, provided
he was feared; who disarmed the nobles, flogged women,
and outraged bishops.

The popes of the sixteenth century were not happy in
their children.

The congress of Nice had then for object not only to
reconcile the Duke of Savoy and the King of France, but
also the Pope and the Emperor.

However, Charles III., whom misfortune had rendered
cautious, could not see without anxiety his nephew, his
brother-in-law, and their holy arbitrator installed in his last
fortified place.

Who could assure him that, instead of restoring the
states that were taken from him, they would not deprive
him of what was left to him ?

At all hazards then, and for greater security, he shut
up Emmanuel Philibert, his last heir, just as Nice was his
last city, in the fortress that commanded the place, charg-
ing the governor not to open the castle to any force what-
ever, though this force came on the part of pope, emperor,
or king.

Then he went in person to meet Paul III. , who, accord-
ing to the programme arranged, was to precede the Emperor
and King of France by some days.

The Pope was no more than a league from Nice, when
a letter reached the governor from the duke, ordering him
to prepare the Pope's lodgings in the castle.

This letter was brought by his Holiness 's captain of
guards, who, at the head of two hundred foot- soldiers,
demanded to be admitted into the castle, in order to wait
on his sovereign.

Duke Charles spoke of the Pope, but he had said noth-
ing of the captain nor of his two hundred men.

The thing was embarrassing; the Pope was expressly
asking what the governor was expressly forbidden to grant.

The governor assembled a council.

86 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Emmanuel Philibert was present, although hardly eleven
years old.

Without doubt he had been summoned there to give
courage to his defenders.

While they were deliberating, the child perceived hang-
ing from the wall the wooden model of the castle now
likely to form a bone of contention between the Pope and
Charles III.

"By my faith, gentlemen!" he said to the councillors,
who had been disputing an hour without being the further
advanced for that, uyou are very much embarrassed for a
trifle. Since we have a castle of wood and a castle of stone,
let us give the wooden one to the Pope and keep .the stone
one for ourselves. ' '

"Gentlemen," said the governor, "we have been taught
our duty by the words of a child. His Holiness shall have,
if he like, the castle of wood; but I swear by God, he shall
not have, while I am alive, the castle of stone!"

The reply of the child and the reply of the governor
were carried to the Pope, who did not insist further, and
took lodgings in the convent of the Cordeliers.

The Emperor arrived, then the King of France.

Each lodged under his tent on either side of the city,
with the Pope between them.

The congress was opened.

Unfortunately the results were far different from what
was hoped.

The Emperor claimed, on behalf of his brother-in-law,
the states of Savoy and Piedmont.

Frangois I. claimed for his second son, the Duke of
Orleans, the duchy of Milan.

In fine, the Pope, who also wanted to settle his son
there, demanded that a prince belonging neither to the
family of Frangois nor of Charles V. should be elected
Duke of Milan, on condition of receiving investitutre from
the Emperor and paying a tribute to the King of France.

Each wanted the impossible, since he wanted the exact

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contrary of what the others wanted. Everybody, indeed,
desired a truce — Fra^ois I. , in order to give a little rest to
his soldiers, who were half -exhausted, and to his finances,
which were entirely so ; Charles Y. , in order to repress the
incursions of the Turks in his two kingdoms of Naples and
Sicily ; Paul III. , in order to make sure of the principalities
of Parma and Placentia for his son, since he could not es-
tablish him in the duchy of Milan.

A ten years' truce was concluded. Frangois I. himself
fixed on the figure.

"Ten years or nothing!" he said peremptorily. And
ten years were given him.

It is true that he was the first to break this truce at the
end of four.

Charles III., who feared that all these conferences would
end in the sequestration of the little territory remaining to
him, saw his illustrious guests depart with more joy than he
had seen them arrive.

They left him as they had found him, only somewhat
poorer by the debts they had incurred in his states and
forgotten to pay.

The Pope was the only one who pulled anything out of
the fire; he had pulled two marriages — the marriage of his
second son Octavio Farnese with Margaret, of Austria,
widow of Julian de Medicis, who had been assassinated
at Florence in the church of Saint Mary of the Flowers;
and the marriage of his niece Yittoria with Antoine, eldest
son of Charles of Yendome.

Delivered from his anxiety with respect to Frangois I. ,
Charles Y. made at Grenoa his preparations against the
Turks. These preparations were immense; they lasted
two years.

At the end of these two years, when the fleet was on
the point of sailing, Duke Charles resolved to pay a visit
to his brother-in-law, and present his son Emmanuel Phili-
bert, now entering on his thirteenth year.

No need of our say ing that Scianca-Ferro and Leone were

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

among the travellers. Emmanuel Philibert never took a
journey without them.

For some time the young prince had been very much
preoccupied. He was busied about the composition of a
discourse of which he never thought of speaking to Mon-
seigneur Louis Alardet, bishop of Lausanne, his preceptor,
nor to his governors, Louis de Chatillon, lord of Musinens,
grand equerry of Savoy, Jean Baptist Provana, lord of
Leyni, and Edouard de Geneve, baron of Lullens.

He was content with unbosoming himself on the subject
to his squire and his page.

It was nothing less than a discourse embodying a peti-
tion to the Emperor Charles V. to allow him to accompany
him on the expedition against the Barbary pirates.

Scianca-Ferro refused his aid, saying that, if it had been
a challenge to carry, he would have been equal to the task;
but as to helping in making up a speech, he knew his in-
competency.

Leone refused, saying that the mere thought of the
dangers Emmanuel Philibert would naturally run in such
an expedition disturbed his mind to that degree that he
could not begin to put together the very first words of
such a petition.

The young prince found then that he must rely on him-
self alone. Therefore, with the assistance of Titus Livy,
Quintus 'Curtius, Plutarch, and all the makers of discourse
of antiquity, he composed the one he reckoned on address-
ing to the Emperor.

The Emperor was lodging with his friend Andrea Doria,
in the fine palace which looks like the king of the port of
Genoa, and was following the provisioning of his fleet,
while promenading the magnificent terraces from which
the splendid admiral, after dining the ambassadors of
Venice, had flung his silver plate into the sea.

Duke Charles, Emmanuel Philibert, and their suite were
introduced to the Emperor as soon as they were announced.

The Emperor embraced his brother-in-law, and was about

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 89

to embrace his nephew also; but Emmanuel Philibert extri-
cated himself respectfully from the august embrace, put one
knee on the ground, and with the gravest air in the world,
his squire and page at his side, without his father having
even the least idea of what he was going to say, pronounced
the following words:

"Devoted to the maintenance of your dignity and your
cause, which are those of God and of our holy religion,
I come freely and joyfully to supplicate you, Caesar, to
receive me as a volunteer among that infinite number of
warriors who are present from all quarters to range them-
selves under your banners ; fortunate should I be, O Csesar,
to learn under the greatest of kings and under an invincible
emperor the discipline of camps and the science of war. ' '

The Emperor looked at him and smiled; and while
Scianca-Ferro was expressing quite loudly his admiration
at the discourse of his prince, and Leone, pale with terror,
was begging Grod to inspire the Emperor with the good
thought of refusing the offer of Emmanuel's services, the
monarch replied gravely:

' ' Prince, I thank you for this mark of your attachment.
Persist in these good sentiments; they will be useful to us
both. But you are still too young to follow me to the wars.
If, however, you are always moved by the same ardor and
determination, you may rest assured that in a few years you
shall not want for opportunities. ' '

And, raising the young prince, he embraced him. Then,
to console him, he detached his own order of the Golden
Fleece and passed it round his neck.

"Ah, mordieu/" cried Scianca-Ferro, "that is something
better than a cardinal's hat!"

. "You have a bold comrade there, fair nephew," said
Charles V.; "and we shall give him a chain in lieu of the
cross we may bestow on him some time or other. ' '

And, taking a gold chain from the neck of one of his
lords, he threw it to Scianca-Ferro, saying:

' ' For you, fair squire. ' ?

90 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

But quick as was the movement of Charles V., Scianca-
Ferro had time to place a knee on the ground, so that it was
in this respectful attitude he received the Emperor's present.

" And now, " said the victor of Pavia, "it is right that
every one have his share, even the page. ' '

And, drawing a diamond from his little finger, "Fair
page," he said, "it is your turn."

But to the great astonishment of Emmanuel Philibert,
Scianca-Ferro, and all the spectators, Leone did not respond,
and remained motionless in his place.

"Oh, oh!" said Charles V., "we have a deaf page, it
would seem." And shrugging his shoulders, "Come for-
ward, fair page," he said.

But instead of obeying, the page took a step backward.

"Leone!" exclaimed Emmanuel, seizing the page's hand
and attempting to lead him forward.

But, wonderful to tell, Leone snatched away his hand,
uttered a cry, and rushed from the place.

"There is a page for you who is not covetous," said
Charles Y. ' ' You must tell me where you are able to get
such, fair nephew. The diamond I wished to give him is
worth a thousand pistoles."

Then, turning to his courtiers, "A good example to
follow, gentlemen!" said Charles Y.

IX

LEONE-LEONA

ALL the efforts made by Emmanuel Philibert during
their return to the Corsi palace, where he lodged
with his father, could not induce Leone to tell, not
only the cause of his refusal of the diamond, but the reason
why, like a wild young falcon, he fled with a scream of
terror. The child remained dumb, and no entreaty could
draw a word from his lips on the subject.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 91

It was the same obstinacy the Duchess Beatrix made
vain efforts to triumph over when she tried to obtain from
the child some information about his mother, which he
constantly refused to give.

Only how could the Emperor Charles V. be concerned
in the catastrophe that had struck the orphan page ? This
was what it was impossible for Emmanuel Philibert to
divine. However it might be, he preferred to find the
whole world wrong, even his uncle, rather than for a mo-
ment suspect Leone of inconsistency and levity.

Two years had passed since the truce of Nice. It was
a very long time for Frangois I. to keep his word. Conse-
quently every one was astonished, and especially Charles
Y., who during his interview with his brother-in-law could
not help feeling anxious as to what the King of France
would do when he, Charles Y., was no longer there to pro-
tect the poor duke.

And, in fact, scarcely had the Emperor set sail, when the
Duke of Savoy, on his return to Nice, received a messenger
from Frangois I.

Frangois I. proposed to restore Savoy to his uncle, pro-
vided the latter surrendered Piedmont and allowed it to be
annexed to the crown of France.

The duke, indignant at such a proposal, dismissed the
messenger of his nephew, forbidding him to appear again
in his presence.

Who had inspired Frangois I. with this audacity of de-
claring war a fourth time on the Emperor ?

It was because he had two new allies, Luther and Soli-
man, the Huguenots of Germany and the Saracens of Africa.
Strange allies for the most Christian king, for the eldest son
of the Church!

Singular thing! During this long struggle between
Frangois I. and Charles Y. it was the one who is styled
the roi chevalier that was constantly breaking his word.
After losing everything except honor on the battlefield of
Pa via, he inflicted on this same honor, which had remained

92 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

untouched in spite of defeat, an ineffaceable stain by signing
in prison what he had no intention of keeping.

And look at him now, this king whom historians ought
to banish from history, as Christ chased the buyers and
sellers from the Temple — look at him, this soldier knighted
by Bayard and cursed by Saint- Yallier; as soon as he has
broken his word, he seems hurled into insanity: he is the
friend of the Turk and the heretic ; he gives the right hand
to Soliman and the left to Luther; he marches side by side
with the son of Mahomet — he, a son of Saint-Louis. There-
fore, God, after sending him defeat, the daughter of His
anger, sends him the plague, the daughter of His vengeance.

All this does not prevent him being styled in books, at
least in those of the historians, the roi chevalier /

It is true we poets call Mm the infamous king, a perjurer
of his word toward his enemies, a perjurer of his word to-
ward his friends, a perjurer of his word to his Grod.

This time, as soon as the answer of the Duke of Savoy
was received, it was Nice that he threatened.

The Duke of Savoy left in Nice a brave Savoyard knight
named Odinet de Montfort, and retired to Verceil, where he
drew together the few forces he could still dispose of.

Emmanuel Philibert had solicited from his father the
favor of remaining at Nice, and of making his first arms
at once against Soliman and Fra^ois I. ; but the last heir
of his house was too precious to the duke to permit of such
a request being allowed.

It was not the same with Scianca-Ferro ; permission was
granted him, and he made good use of it.

Scarcely were the duke, his son, Leone, and their suite
some leagues from Nice, when a fleet of two hundred sail
was seen flying French and Turkish flags. It landed in the
port of Villa Franca ten thousand Turks commanded by
Khair-Eddin, and twelve thousand French commanded
by the Due d'Enghien.

The siege was terrible ; the garrison defended itself des-
perately. Every one, citizen, soldier, and gentleman, per-

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formed prodigies of valor. A breach was made in the city
in ten several places. They were entered by Turks and
Frenchmen; then every street, every lane, every house,
was defended. Fire kept pace with the besiegers. Odinet
de Montfort retired into the castle, leaving to the enemy
a city in ruins.

The next day, a herald summoned him to surrender; but
he, shaking his head, answered:

"Friend, you make a mistake in proposing to me such
baseness. My name is Montfort; my arms are pales , and
my motto, 11 faut tenir. ' '

Montfort was worthy of his motto, his arms, and his
name. He held out until the arrival of the duke with four
thousand Piedmontese, and of Alfonso of Avalos, on the
part of the Emperor, with six thousand Spaniards, forced
the Turks and French to raise the siege.

It was high festival for Duke Charles and his subjects
the day he returned to Nice, ruined though the city was.
It was also high festival for Emmanuel Philibert and his
squire. Scianca-Ferro had gained the name given him by
Charles III. When his foster-brother asked him how it
felt striking real cuirasses and real bucklers, "Bah!" he
answered, "it is not so difficult as splitting oaks; it is not
so hard as breaking rocks."

"Oh, why was I not there!" murmured Emmanuel Phil-
ibert, without perceiving that Leone, clinging to his arm,
had turned pale in thinking of the dangers Scianca-Ferro
had already run, and of those Emmanuel might run one day.

It is true that some time after our poor page was fully
reassured by the peace of Crespy, the result of the invasion
of Provence by Charles V., as well as of the battle of
Cerisoles.

Peace was signed on the 14th of October, 1544. It stip-
ulated that Philippe d' Orleans, second son of Frangois I.,
should marry in two years the daughter of the Emperor, and
receive as dowry the duchy of Milan and the Low Coun-
tries ; that, on his side, the King of France should renounce

94 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

his claims to the kingdom of Naples, and restore to the
Duke of Savoy what he had taken from him, except the
fortresses of Pignerol and Montmelian, which would remain
united to the French territory as places of security.

The treaty was to be executed in two years: that is to
say, at the time of the marriage of the Due d' Orleans with
the daughter of the Emperor.

As we see, we have now arrived at the year 1545; the
children had grown. Leone, the youngest of the three, was
fourteen; Emmanuel was seventeen; Scianca-Ferro, the eld-
est, was six months more than Emmanuel.

What was passing in the heart of Leone, and why was
the young man becoming sadder and sadder ? Questions
vainly put to each other by Scianca and Emmanuel; ques-
tions vainly put to Leone by Emmanuel.

And, indeed, it was strange. The more Leone advanced
in years, the less the young page followed the example of
his two companions. Emmanuel, to make his surname of
Cardinalin quite forgotten, and the squire to deserve more
and more his surname of Scianca-Ferro, passed their entire
days in sham battles ; the young lads, with sword or lance
or axe ever in their hands, were rivals in address and
strength. All that can be won by skill in the use of arms,
Emmanuel had acquired; all the force and vigor God can
give to human muscles, Scianca-Ferro had received from
God.

During this time, Leone would stand pensive on some
tower from which he could see the exercises of the two
youths, and follow Emmanuel with his eyes; or if their ex-
citement carried them too far away, he took a book, retired
to some distant corner of the garden, and read.

The only thing Leone learned with joy — and doubtless
because he saw in it a means of following Emmanuel— was
to ride on horseback; but for some time, as his melancholy
gradually increased, he renounced even this exercise.

One thing especially that astonished Emmanuel was that
at the idea he was soon to become a rich and puissant

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 95

prince, the countenance of Leone became more and more
gloomy.

On a certain day, the duke received a letter from the
Emperor Charles V., in which there was question of a mar-
riage between Emmanuel Philibert and the daughter of his
brother, King Ferdinand. Leone was present at the read-
ing of this letter; he could not dissemble the effect it pro-
duced on him, and to the great astonishment of Duke
Charles III. and of Scianca-Ferro, who sought in vain for
the motives of such grief, he went out, sobbing wildly.

As soon as Duke Charles returned to his apartments,
Emmanuel rushed after his page. The sentiment he ex-
perienced for Leone was strange, and in no way resembled
that with which Scianca-Ferro inspired him. To save the
life of Scianca-Ferro, he would have given his life; to spare
the blood of his foster-brother, he would have given his
own; but his life and his blood he would have given to
arrest a tear trembling on the long dark eyelashes of Leone.

Therefore, having seen him weep, he wished to know the
cause of this grief. For more than a year he had perceived
the growing sorrow of the young page, and he had often
asked the cause of such sadness; but Leone had immedi-
ately made an effort of self-control, had shaken his head,
as if to chase away some gloomy thought, and replied with
a smile:

"I am too happy, Monseigneur Emmanuel, and I am
always afraid such happiness may not last!"

And Emmanuel in turn shook his head ; but as he per-
ceived that too much importunity only seemed to render
Leone more unhappy, he contented himself with taking
his hands in his own and gazing on him fixedly, as if
to question him in every sense.

But Leone would slowly turn away his eyes, and gently
withdraw his hands from Emmanuel.

And Emmanuel would then sadly seek Scianca-Ferro,
who did not even think of asking what was the matter, who
never took it into his head to grasp hands and question with

96 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

a look, so different was the friendship uniting Emmanuel to
Scianca-Ferro from that uniting Emmanuel to Leone.

But on that day Emmanuel vainly searched for the page
for more than an hour in the castle and park; he did not
find him. He questioned everybody ; none had seen Leone.
At last he addressed one of the grooms; according to the
latter, Leone had entered the church, and must be there
still.

Emmanuel ran to the church, took in at a glance the
whole interior of the gloomy edifice, and saw Leone on his
knees in the most retired corner of the darkest chapel.

He approached him near enough almost to touch him
without the page, lost in meditation, even suspecting his
presence. Then he made a step forward and touched his
shoulder, pronouncing his name.

Leone started, and regarded Emmanuel with almost a
scared expression.

4 ' Pray what are you doing in this church at this hour,
Leone?" asked Emmanuel, anxiously.

"I am asking God," said Leone, sadly, "to grant me the
strength to execute the plan which I am contemplating."

"And what is this plan, child?" asked Emmanuel.
"May I not know it?"

"On the contrary, monseigneur, " replied Leone, "you
shall be the first to know it. ' '

"You swear it to me, Leone?"

"Alas, yes, monseigneur!" replied the young man, with
a sad smile.

Emmanuel took his hand and tried to draw him out of
the church ; but Leone gently freed his hand, as he was ac-
customed doing for some time now, and, kneeling again,
begged the young duke to leave him alone.

"By and by," he said; "just at present I want to be
alone with Grod."

There was something so solemn and melancholy in the
tones of the young man that Emmanuel did not venture
to resist.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 97

He left the church, but waited for Leone at the door.

Leone started on perceiving him, and yet he did not
seem astonished to find him there.

"And shall I know this secret some day or other?"
asked Emmanuel.

"To-morrow I hope to have strength enough to tell it
to you, monseigneur, " replied Leone.

"Where?"

"In this church."

"At what hour?"

"Come at the same hour as to-day."

"And in the meantime, Leone?" asked Emmanuel, en-
treatingly.

4 ' In the meantime I hope that monseigneur will not force
me to quit my chamber ; I need solitude and reflection. ' '

Emmanuel regarded the page with an inexpressible pang
at the heart, and conducted him to the door of his chamber.
Arrived there, Leone wished to take the hand of the prince
and kiss it. Emmanuel, in turn, dropped his hand, threw
his two arms around his comrade, and attempted to em-
brace him; but Leone gently repulsed him, disengaged
himself, and with an accent of unutterable sweetness and
melancholy said —

' l To-morrow, monseigneur. ' '

And he entered his room.

Emmanuel remained a moment motionless at the door.
He heard Leone shooting the bolt.

The chill of the iron as he heard seemed to penetrate to
the depths of his soul.

"My God!" he murmured quite low; "what is coming
over me, and what is this I am feeling ?"

"What the devil are you doing there?" said a rough
voice behind him, while a vigorous hand was pressed on
his shoulder.

Emmanuel heaved a sigh, took the arm of Scianca-Ferro,
and drew him into the garden.

They sat down side by side on a bench.

98 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Emmanuel related to Scianca-Ferro all that had just
passed between him and Leone.

Scianca-Ferro reflected a moment, cast up his eyes, and
bit his fist.

Then suddenly, "I bet I know what's the matter," he
said.

"What is it then?"

"Leone is in love!"

It seemed to Emmanuel as if he had received a thrust
through the heart.

"Impossible!" he stammered.

"And why impossible?" retorted Scianca-Ferro. "I am
the same myself. ' '

"You! And with whom?" asked Emmanuel.

"Eh, parbleuf with Gervaise, the daughter of the porter
of the castle. She was terribly afraid during the siege, poor
child, particularly when night came, and so to reassure her,
I kept her with me. ' '

Emmanuel made a motion with his shoulders to signify
that he was very sure that Leone did not love the daughter
of a porter.

Scianca-Ferro misinterpreted the gesture of Emmanuel,
which he took for a mark of disdain.

"Ah, Master Cardinalin!" he said (in spite of the collar
of the Golden Fleece, at certain moments Scianca-Ferro
still gave this title to Emmanuel), "you needn't be quite
so dainty. As for me, I declare to you, I prefer Gervaise
to all the beautiful ladies of the court. And should there
be a tournament, I am ready to wear her colors and defend
her beauty against all comers!"

"I would pity those who would not be of your opinion,
my dear Scianca-Ferro," replied Emmanuel.

"And you are right; because I would strike as hard for
the daughter of a porter as for the daughter of a king."

Emmanuel rose, pressed Scianca-Ferro' s hand, and re-
turned to his apartments.

Decidedly, as he had said, Scianca-Ferro struck too hard

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99

to comprehend what was passing in the heart of Emmanuel,
and to divine what was passing in the soul of Leone.

As to Emmanuel, although endowed with a greater deli-
cacy of feeling and a more exquisite susceptibility of spirit,
he sought vainly in the solitude of his chamber and in the
silence of the night, not only for what was passing in the
soul of Leone, but for what was agitating his own heart.

He therefore awaited the morrow impatiently. The
morning slipped by slowly, without Emmanuel seeing
Leone. When the hour came, he walked trembling to the
church, as if something of the highest importance was about
to be decided in his life.

The treaty of Crespy, signed a year before, and which
was to finally restore or take from him his states, had ap-
peared to him of less gravity than the secret he was about
to learn from Leone.

He found the young man on the same spot as on the
evening before. Without doubt he had been a long time
praying. Still, his face gave evidence of a resignation full
of sadness.

Emmanuel went quickly up to him. Leone received him
with a gentle, but melancholy smile.

"Well?" asked Emmanuel.

"Well, monseigneur, " replied Leone, "I have a favor to
beg of you. ' '

"What is it, Leone?"

"You see my weakness and unntness for all bodily exer-
cises. In your almost royal future you require strong men
like Scianca-Ferro, and not weak and timid children like
me, monseigneur." Leone made an effort, and two big
tears coursed down his cheeks. "Monseigneur, I beg of
you the singular favor of allowing me to leave you. ' '

Emmanuel took a step backward. His life, begun be-
tween Scianca-Ferro and Leone, had never presented itself
to him in the future as deprived of either of these two
friends.

"Leave me ?" he said to Leone in amazement.

(5)— Vol. 20

100 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Leone did not reply, and bent his head.

"Leave me ?" repeated Emmanuel, with an accent of the
most poignant sorrow. "You leave me! me! impossible!"

"It is necessary," said Leone, in a voice almost unintel-
ligible.

Emmanuel, like one who feels himself becoming mad,
bore his hand to his forehead, looked at the altar, and let
his two arms fall inert along his body.

For a few seconds, he questioned himself, then he ques-
tioned God, and, as he received no response either from
earth or heaven, he fell back discouraged.

"Leave me!" he resumed for the third time, as if he
could not grow accustomed to the word — "me, who found
you dying, Leone; me, who received you as a messenger
from Providence; me, who have always treated you as a
brother! Oh!"

"It is for that very reason, monseigneur: it is because
I owe you too much, and because in remaining near you
I can make no return for what I owe you; it is because I
wish to spend my whole life in prayer for my benefactor. ' '

"Pray for me!" said Emmanuel, more and more aston-
ished. "And where?"

"In some holy monastery, which seems a place much
better suited for a poor orphan like me than that which
I would occupy in a brilliant court such as yours is sure
to be."

"My mother, my poor mother!" murmured Emmanuel,
"what would you say, you who loved him so well, if you
heard this?"

"In presence of that God who is listening to us," said
Leone, placing his hand solemnly on the arm of the young
prince — "in presence of that God who is listening to us, she
would say that I am right. ' '

There was such an accent of truth, such conviction of
heart, if not of conscience, in the reply of Leone, that Em-
manuel was shaken by it.

"Leone," he said, "do what you wish, my child; you

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 101

are free. I have tried to bind your heart; but I have never
had the intention of binding your body. However, I ask
you not to precipitate your resolution; take ei^ht days,
take—"

"Oh," said Leone, "if I do not set out on the moment
when God gives me strength to leave you, I shall never be
able to do so ; and I tell you, ' ' continued the child, breaking
into sobs, "I must depart."

"Depart! But why, why depart?"

To this question Leone replied by the same inflexible si-
lence he had exhibited on two previous occasions — the first,
when at the village of Oleggio the duchess had questioned
him on his parents and his birth; the second, when at Genoa
Emmanuel wished to know why he refused the diamond of
Charles V.

He was about to insist on an answer when he heard a step
in the church.

It was one of his father's servants, who announced that
Duke Charles desired to see him on the instant.

Important news had just been received from France.

"You see, Leone," said Emmanuel to the child, "I must
leave you now; I will see you again in the evening, and if
you persist in your resolution, well, you shall be free, my
child. You may leave me to-morrow, or even this evening,
if you believe you ought to remain with me no longer. ' '

Leone did not reply; he fell on his knees with a deep
groan. It looked as if his heart were broken.

Emmanuel departed; but before leaving the church, he
could not help turning his head two or three times to learn
if the child felt as much pain in seeing him depart as he felt
in departing.

Leone remained alone and prayed for another hour ; then
he grew calmer and returned to his chamber. In the ab-
sence of Emmanuel, his resolution, tottering in the presence
of the young prince, became more firm, being strengthened
by that angel with the heart of ice whom men call reason.

But once in his chamber, the idea that Emmanuel might

102 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

appear at any moment and make a final attempt to move
him, disturbed the child.

At every noise he heard on the staircase, he started; the
footsteps resounding in the corridor seemed, when passing
before his door, to be treading on his heart.

Two hours glided past; a step was heard. Oh, this time
Leone had no longer any doubt; he had recognized the
step.

The door opened, and Emmanuel appeared. He was sad,
and yet in his look there was a blending of joy with this
sadness. ''Well, Leone," he asked, after closing the door,
"have you reflected?"

" Monseigneur, " replied Leone, "when you left me, my
reflections were already made. ' '

"So that you persist in abandoning me ?"

Leone had not the strength to reply; he contented him-
self with making a sign of the head in the affirmative.

"And this," continued Emmanuel, with a melancholy
smile — "and this, because I am going to be a great prince
and to have a brilliant court ?"

Leone inclined his head anew.

"Well," said Emmanuel, with a certain bitterness, "on
this point you may be reassured. I am to-day more miser-
able than I have ever been!"

Leone raised his head, and Emmanuel could see the
amazement in his beautiful eyes shine through his tears.

"The second son of the King of France, the Due d' Or-
leans, is dead," said Emmanuel, "so that the treaty of
Crespy is broken. ' '

"And — and?" asked Leone, questioning Emmanuel with
every muscle of his face.

"And," returned Emmanuel, "as the Emperor Charles
V. , my unclt, will not give the duchy of Milan to my cousin
Frangois I., my cousin Frangois I. will not restore his states
to my father. ' '

"But," asked Leone with an indescribable feeling of an-
guish, "that marriage with the daughter of Ferdinand, that

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 103

marriage proposed by the Emperor himself — that marriage
will take place?"

"Ah! my poor Leone, the man whom the Emperor
Charles V. wished as the husband of his niece was Count
of Bresse, Duke of Savoy, and Prince of Piedmont; it was,
in fine, a crowned husband, not poor Emmanuel Philibert,
who out of all his states retains only the city of Nice, the
valley of Aosta, and a few patches scattered here and there
through Savoy and Piedmont."

"Oh!" cried Leone, with a feeling of joy he could not
stifle. But, almost immediately recovering that powerful
control over himself that threatened to escape him, "No
matter, monseigneur; this must not change anything of
what was arranged," he said.

"And so," asked Emmanuel, sadder and gloomier at
this resolution of the child than he had been at the news
of the loss of his states, "you quit me forever, Leone?"

"It is as necessary to-day as it was yesterday, Em-
manuel. ' '

"Yesterday, Leone, I was rich, I was powerful, I had a
ducal crown on my head; to-day, I am poor, despoiled, and
have nothing left but my sword. In leaving me yesterday
you would be only cruel; leaving me to-day, you will be
ungrateful. Adieu, Leone."

"Ungrateful!" exclaimed Leone; "0 God! you hear
him; he says I am ungrateful."

Then, as with bent brows and gloomy eye, the young
prince was preparing to leave the chamber —

"Oh, Emmanuel!" cried Leone, "do not quit me thus;
it would kill me!"

Emmanuel turned round; the arms of the child were
stretched out to him. Leone was pale, tottering, almost
fainting.

He rushed forward and supported him in his arms, and,
carried away by the first impulse — an impulse he could not
account for — he pressed his lips on the lips of his companion.

Leone uttered a cry as agonizing as if a red-hot iron had

10-i THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

touched them, fell backward, and fainted. The button of
his doublet was pressing on his throat; Emmanuel opened
it. Then, as the child was stifling in his arms, he tore it off,
and at the same time to give him air opened all the buttons
of his vest; but this time it was Emmanuel who uttered a
cry, not of sorrow, but of surprise, astonishment, and joy.

Leone was a woman.

After returning to consciousness, Leone existed no longer ;
but Leona was the mistress of Emmanuel Philibert.

From that time there was no longer question for the poor
child of separating from her lover, to whom now everything
was clear without a word of explanation — sadness, solitude,
and desire of flight. Perceiving that she loved Emmanuel
Philibert, Leona had wished to be separated from him; .but
the moment the young man had taken possessioniof her love,
Leona gave him her life.

In the eyes of every one else, the page continued to be a
young man, and was called Leone. For Emmanuel Phili-
bert alone, Leone was a beautiful young girl, and was called
Leona.

As a prince, Emmanuel Philibert lost Bresse, Piedmont,
and Savoy, with the exception of the valley of Aosta, and
the cities of Nice and Verceil; but as a man he lost nothing,
since God gave him Scianca-Ferro and Leona; that is to say,
the two most magnificent presents in the gift of heaven that
God can bestow on one of his elect — devotion and love.

X

THE THREE MESSAGES

LET us now tell in a few lines all that passed during
the period of time elapsing between this period and
the one we have reached at present.
Emmanuel Philibert had said to Leone that he had
nothing left but his sword.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 105

The league of the Protestants of Germany, raised by John
Frederick, Elector of Saxony, who was disturbed by the suc-
cessive encroachments of the Empire, had, on breaking out,
given the young prince an opportunity of offering that sword
to Charles Y.

This time it was accepted.

The pretext was that, as long as the Emperor lived, his
brother Ferdinand could not be King of the Eomans.

The league was formed in the little town of Smalkalde,
situated in the county of Henecery, and belonging to the
Landgrave of Hesse; hence the name of League of Smalkalde,
under which it is known.

Henry VIII. had a scruple, and kept apart from it; Fran-
gois I. , on the contrary, entered into it with all his heart.

The thing was of old date; it dated from the 22d of De-
cember, 1530, the day of the first meeting.

Soliman was also in the league. In fact, he lent his aid
to it by sending troops to besiege Messina in 1532; but
Charles V. had marched against him with an army of
ninety thousand foot- soldiers and thirty thousand cavalry,
and forced him to raise the siege.

Then, the plague assisting him, he had destroyed the
army of Frangois I. in Italy, so that, on one side, had in-
tervened the treaty of Cambrai, the 5th of August, 1529,
and on the other the treaty of Nuremberg, the 23d of July,
1532, which had given a few moments of repose to Europe.

We know already how long treaties made with Frangois
I. lasted. The treaty of Nuremberg was broken, and the
league of Smalkalde, which had had time to reunite all
its forces, broke out.

The Emperor marched in person against the Smalkal-
dists. What was passing in Germany always seemed to
affect more peculiarly what was passing elsewhere.

It was because Charles V. understood that since the de-
cadence of the Papacy, the greatest power in this world was
the Empire.

It was in these circumstances that Emmanuel Philibert

106 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

set out for Worms on the 27th of May, 1545, where the Em-
peror was staying. The young prince was, as usual, accom-
panied by Scianca-Ferro and Leone.

He was attended by forty gentlemen.

It was all the army his father could raise in his states and
send to the Emperor — he who still bore the titles of Duke of
Savoy, Chablais, and Aosta; Prince of Piedmont, Achaia,
and the Morea; Count of Geneva, Nice, Asti, Bresse, and
Eomont; Baron of Vaud, (rex, and Faucigny; Lord of Ver-
ceil, Beaufort, Bugey, and Freibourg; Prince and Perpetual
Vicar of the Holy Empire; Marquis of Italy and King of
Cyprus.

Charles V. received his nephew most affectionately. He
permitted him to bear the title of Majesty in his presence,
on account of that kingdom of Cyprus to which his father
laid claim.

Emmanuel Philibert repaid this kindly reception by per-
forming prodigies of valor at the battles of Ingolstadt and
Miihlberg.

The last ended the struggle. Ten of the forty gentlemen
of Emmanuel Philibert were absent from the roll-call in the
evening; they were dead or wounded.

As to Scianca-Ferro, recognizing the elector John Fred-
rick in the midst of the battle by his powerful Friesland
horse, his gigantic figure, and the terrible blows which he
struck, he had kept particularly close to him.

Certainly the young man would have won on that day
the name of Scianca-Ferro, if it had not been given him
already.

With a blow of his terrible battle-axe, he broke the right
arm of the prince, then with the blade of the same weapon
he cut his helmet and face at the same time ; so that when
the prisoner raised the mutilated visor of this same helmet
in presence of the Emperor, he had to name himself. He
was no longer recognizable; his face was one frightful
wound.

Fran9ois I. had died a month before. When dying, he

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107

said to his son that all the misfortunes of France had come
from his alliance with the Protestants and the Turks, and,
recognizing that Charles V. had the Almighty God on his
side, he recommended the future King of France to keep
on good terms with him.

There was then an interval of peace, during which Em-
manuel Philibert went to see his father at Verceil. The
interview was tender and full of deep affection; doubtless
the Duke of Savoy had a presentiment that he was embrac-
ing his son for. the last time.

The recommendation of Frangois I. to Henri II. did not
leave a deep impression in the heart of the latter — a king
without military genius, but with warlike instincts — and
the war was renewed on account of the assassination of
the Duke of Placentia, that Paul Louis Farnese of whom
we have already spoken.

He was assassinated in Placentia in 1548, by Pallavicini,
Landi, Anguisuola and Gronfalonieri, who immediately after
the assassination placed the city in the hands of Ferdinand
of Gronzague, the Milanese governor of Charles Y.

On the other hand, Octavio Farnese, second son of Paul
III., had taken possession of Parma, and, in order not to
be forced to surrender it, had invoked the protection of
Henri II.

Now during the life of Paul Louis even, Charles V. had
never ceased to claim Parma and Placentia as forming parts
of the duchy of Milan.

The reader will call to mind the differences he had on
this subject with Paul III.

Nothing more was required to rekindle the war, which
flamed up at the same time in Italy and the Low Countries.

It was in Flanders, as always, that Charles Y. made his
greatest efforts. It was then quite naturally that our eyes,
on the lookout for Emmanuel Philibert, were turned toward
the north at the beginning of this book.

We have told how, after the siege of Metz and the cap-
ture of Therouanne and Hesdin, the Emperor, charging his

108 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

nephew to rebuild the latter city, had named him Com-
mander-in-chief of his armies in Flanders and Governor
of the Low Countries.

Then, as if to counterbalance this great honor, an inef-
fable sorrow struck the heart of Emmanuel Philibert. On
the 17th of September, 1553, his father, the Duke of Savoy,
died.

It is with this rank of commander- in- chief, and this sor-
row which, if not denoted by his garb, as in the case of
Hamlet, was not the less imprinted on his features, that
we have seen him issuing from the imperial camp; and it
is after enforcing his authority as Eomulus enforced his that
we see him return to it.

A messenger from Charles V. was waiting for him at the
entrance to his tent; the Emperor desired to speak to him
that very moment,

Emmanuel at once leaped from the saddle, threw the bri-
dle to one of his men, nodded to his squire and page as a
sign that he would meet them after his return, unbuckled
his sword, and placed it under his arm, as he was accus-
tomed to do when he walked, wishing at need to always
have the hilt within reach of his hand, and then took his
way to the tent of the modern Caesar.

The sentry presented arms, and he entered, preceded by
the messenger who was going to announce his arrival to the
Emperor.

The field tent of the Emperor was divided into four
compartments, without reckoning a kind of antechamber,
or rather portico supported by four pillars.

These four compartments of the imperial tent served as a
dining-room, parlor, bedchamber and office. Each of them
had been furnished by the gift of a city, and adorned with
the trophy of a victory.

The only trophy of the Emperor's bedchamber was the
sword of Frangois I. hanging at the head of his bed. The
trophy was simple enough, the reader may well think; but
it had more value in the eyes of Charles V., who carried it

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 109

with him even into the monastery of Saint- Just, than all the
trophies of the other three rooms united.

He who writes these lines has often, with a sad and mel-
ancholy look toward the past, held and drawn this sword,
once held by Fran§ois I., who surrendered it; by Charles
V., who received it; and by Napoleon, who recovered it.

Strange nothingness of the things of this world !

Having become almost the sole dowry of a beautiful but
fallen princess, it is to-day the property of a servant of
Catherine II.

O Fransois I. ! O Charles V. ! O Napoleon!

In the antechamber, although he barely crossed it, Em-
manuel Philibert — with that glance of the born ruler of men
that takes in everything in a second — remarked a man whose
hands were tied behind his back, and who was guarded by
four soldiers.

The man, thus bound, was clad like a peasant. As his
head was uncovered, Emmanuel Philibert saw reason to con-
clude that neither his hair nor complexion were in harmony
with his garb.

He thought it was a French spy they had just arrested,
and that the Emperor had summoned him in connection with
this spy.

Charles Y. was in his cabinet; the duke was introduced
as soon as he was announced.

Charles Y. , born along with the sixteenth century, was
at this time a man of fifty-five years, not tall, but vigorous;
his keen eyes sparkled under the eyebrows, but only when
they were not dulled by pain. His hair was grizzled, but
his beard, more thick than long, was of an ardent red.

He was lying on a sort of Turkish divan covered with
Eastern stuffs that had been captured in the tent of Soliman
before Yienna.

Within reach of his hand gleamed a trophy of kandjars
and Arabian cimeters. He was muffled up in a long dress-
ing-gown of black velvet. His visage was gloomy; and he
appeared to be waiting impatiently for Emmanuel Philibert.

110 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

However, when the duke was announced, this expression of
impatience disappeared on the instant, even as a cloud which
darkens the brightness of the day disappears at the touch of
the north wind.

During a reign of forty years, the Emperor had had time
to learn to compose his countenance, and it must be said
that none was more skilful in this art.

Still, at the first glance he cast on the Emperor, Emman-
uel understood that he was about to converse with him on
grave matters.

Charles V., as soon as he perceived his nephew, turned
his head in his direction, and, making an effort to change
his position, gave him a friendly greeting with head and
hand.

Emmanuel Philibert bowed respectfully.

The Emperor opened the conversation in Italian. This
sovereign, who regretted all his life not to know Greek and
Latin, spoke equally well five living languages — Italian,
Spanish, French, English and Flemish. "I learned Ital-
ian," he said, "to speak to the Pope; Spanish to speak to
my mother Juana; English to speak to my aunt Catherine;
Flemish to speak to my fellow-citizens and friends; in fine,
French to speak to myself."

Whatever hurry he might be in to discuss affairs with
those he summoned near him, the Emperor always began
by saying a few words in their own language. "Well,"
he asked in Italian, "what news from the camp?"

"Sire," replied Emmanuel, employing the same language
that Charles Y. used, and which, for that matter, was his
mother tongue, "news which your Majesty would soon learn,
even if I did not bring it myself. This news is that, in order
to have my title and authority respected, I have been forced
to make a terrible example. ' '

"A terrible example!" vaguely answered the Emperor,
who had already become absorbed in his own thoughts;
"and what was it?"

Emmanuel Philibert began the recital of what took place

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 111

between him and Count Wai deck ; but important as was the
narrative, it was evident the Emperor was only listening with.
his ears: his mind was elsewhere.

"Well?" said Charles V., for the third time, when Em-
manuel Philibert had finished.

Plunged, as he was, in his own thoughts, he had in all
probability not heard a single word of the report which his
general had made him/

In fact, during all the time the narrative lasted, the
Emperor, doubtless to hide his preoccupation, was looking
at the fingers of his right hand, twisted and deformed by
the gout.

That was the true enemy of Charles V. — a far deadlier
enemy than Soliman or Frangois I. or Henri II. !

The gout and Luther were the two enemies that troubled
him incessantly ; so he placed them both in the same rank.

' ' Ah ! except for Luther and the gout, ' ' he would some-
times say, taking a fistful of his red beard as he descended
from his horse, exhausted by some long march or some ter-
rible battle — "except for Luther and the gout, how I should
sleep to-night!"

There was a moment's silence between the narrative of
Emmanuel Philibert and the resumption of the conversation
by the Emperor.

At last, the latter, turning to his nephew —

"I, too, have news to give you, and bad news!"

"From where, august emperor?"

"From Kome."

"Is the Pope elected?"

"Yes."

"And his name?"

"Peter Caraffa. The one he replaces, Emmanuel, was
just my own age, born the same year — Marcellus II. Poor
Marcellus! Does not his death tell me to prepare to die?"

"Sire," said Emmanuel, "I do not think you ought to
allow your mind to dwell on this event, or to judge the
death of Marcellus from the standpoint of an ordinary

112 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

death. Marcello Cervino, the cardinal, was healthy, ro-
bust, and might perhaps have lived a hundred years.
Cardinal Marcello Cervino, become Pope Marcellus II.,
died in twenty days!"

"Yes, I know," replied Charles V., pensively; "he
was also in too great a hurry to be pope. He had him-
self crowned with the tiara on Good Friday ; that is to say,
on the day on which our Lord was crowned with thorns.
It brought him misfortune. So I am less preoccupied by
his death than by the election of Paul IV."

4 ' And yet, if I am not mistaken, ' ' replied Emmanuel,
"Paul IV. is a Neapolitan; that is to say, a subject of
your Majesty."

"Yes, undoubtedly. But I have always had bad reports
of this cardinal, and while he_was at the court of Spain I
have had personal reasons to complain of him. Ah!" con-
tinued Charles V., with an expression of utter weariness,
"I shall have to begin again with- him the struggle I have
sustained for twenty years with his predecessors, and I am
at the end of my strength. ' '

"Oh, sire!"

Charles V. fell into a kind of revery, from which he
emerged almost immediately.

"For that matter," he added, as if speaking to himself,
and with a sigh, "perhaps he will deceive me as the other
popes have deceived me. They are always the very reverse
of what they were as cardinals. I thought the Medicis
Clement VII. a man of peaceful spirit, firm and constant;
good! No sooner is he pope than I find I have been mis-
taken on all points; he is a restless, turbulent, variable
spirit. On the other hand, I imagined Julius III. would
neglect business for pleasure, and would be engrossed in
diversions and amusements. Peccato! there never has been
a more industrious and diligent pope, or one caring less for
the joys of this world. What work he cut out for us, he
and Cardinal Pole, in connection with the marriage of
Philip and his cousin Mary Tudor! If we had not arrested

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 113

that madman Pole at Augsburg, who knows if to-day the
marriage would have been consummated ? Ah, poor Mar-
cellus!" said the Emperor, heaving a second sigh, still more
expressive than the first, "it was n°t because you were
crowned on Good Friday that you survived your enthron-
ing only twenty days; it was because you were my friend!"

"Let us wait, august emperor," said Emmanuel Phili-
bert: "your Majesty acknowledges that you have been de-
ceived with regard to Clement VII. and Julius III. ; perhaps
you may also be deceived with regard to Paul IV."

"G-od grant it! but I doubt."

A noise was heard at the door.

"What is the matter?" demanded Charles V., impa-
tiently. "I gave directions that I was to be disturbed by
nobody. See, Emmanuel, what is wanted. "

The duke raised the tapestry in front of the door, ex-
changed a question and answer with the persons in the
neighboring compartment, and, turning toward the em-
peror—

"Sire," said he, "it is a courier from Spain, from Tor-
desillas. "

' ' Let him enter ; news of my good mother, no doubt. ' ' •

The messenger appeared.

"Yes. Have you not news of my mother ?" said Charles
V. , addressing the messenger in Spanish.

The messenger, without answering, tendered a letter to
Emmanuel Philibert, who took it from his hand.

"Give it to me, Emmanuel; give it to me!" said the
Emperor. "And she is well, is she not?"

The messenger continued to keep silence. Emmanuel,
on his side, hesitated to give the letter to Charles V. : it had
a black seal ; Charles V. saw the seal, and shuddered.

"Ah!" he said, "you see the election of Paul IV. brings
me misfortune already. Give it to me," he continued, hold-
ing out his hand to Emmanuel.

Emmanuel obeyed; to have delayed longer would have
been puerile.

114 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"August sovereign," said he, on handing over the letter,
"remember, you are a man!"

" Yes, " replied Charles V. ; "that is what they used to say
to the Eoman generals who were honored with triumphs. ' '

And, trembling, he opened the letter.

It contained only a few lines; yet to read it he had to
return to it two or three times.

The tears hindered him from seeing; his eyes, worn and
parched by ambition, were themselves astonished at this
miracle; they had again found tears.

When he had finished, he handed the letter to Em-
manuel Philibert, who took it from him, and fell back on
the divan.

"Dead!" he said— "dead on the 13th of April, 1555, the
very day Peter Caraffa was named pope ! Ah ! my son, did
I not tell you this man would bring me misfortune ?"

Emmanuel had cast his eyes over the letter. It was
signed by the royal notary of Tordesillas; it, in fact, an-
nounced the death of Juana of Castile, mother of Charles
Y., better known in history by the name of Juana the -Mad.

He remained a moment motionless in presence of this
great sorrow, which he did not know how to deal with, for
Charles Y. adored his mother.

"Augustus," he murmured at last, "remember all you
had the goodness to say to me when I also had the mis-
fortune, two years ago, to lose my father. ' '

"Yes, yes, such things are said," returned the Emperor,
"good reasons are found for the consolation of others, and
then, when our turn comes, we are powerless to console
ourselves!"

"And so 1 do not console you, Augustus," said Em-
manuel; "on the contrary, I say, Weep, weep, for you are
only a man!"

"What a painful life was hers, Emmanuel!" said Charles
Y. "In 1496 she marries my father, Philip the Fair; she
adored him ! In 1506 he dies, poisoned from drinking a
glass of water while playing tennis; she becomes mad with

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 115

grief. For ten years she awaited the resurrection of her
husband, which a Carthusian monk had promised her in
order to console her; and for ten years she never left Tor-
desillas, except when, in 1516, she came to me at Villa-
Viciosa, and with her own hands placed the crown of Spain
on my head. Mad with the love which she had had for her
husband, she only recovered her reason when she had to
occupy herself with her son. Poor mother! All my reign
will at least bear witness to the respect I had for her.
Nothing of importance has been done in Spain for the last
forty years without her advice on the matter being taken —
not that she was always in a condition to give it; but it was
my duty as a son to act thus, and I fulfilled it. Do you
know that, though a Spaniard, and a good Spaniard at
that, she came to Flanders for her accouchement, in order
that I might be one day emperor in place of my grandfather
Maximilian? Do you know that, although the best of
mothers, she renounced the privilege of suckling me, lest,
being nourished by her milk, I might be accused of being
too Spanish ? And, in fact, the two principal titles to which
I owe the imperial crown are being a foster-child of Anne
Sterel, and being a citizen of Ghent. Well, from before my
birth, my mother had foreseen all this. And what can I do
for her after her death— order for her a splendid funeral ?
She will have it. But, in truth, to be Emperor of Germany,
King of Spain, Naples, Sicily, and the two Indias, to have
an empire on which, according to my flatterers, the sun
never sets, and to be able to do nothing for one's mother
except to give her a splendid funeral! Ah, Emmanuel,
the power of the most powerful man is very limited
indeed!"

At this moment the hangings at the door of the tent
were raised anew; and, through the opening, an officer was
seen, all covered with dust, and seeming also to be the
bearer of urgent news.

The expression on the Emperor's countenance was so sad
that the usher, who had ventured to disregard the counter-

116 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

sign in view of the importance of the news brought by the
third messenger, and to enter the cabinet of Charles V.,
stopped short.

"Enter!" said Charles, in Flemish; "what is the
matter?"

"Sire," said the messenger, "King Henri II. has opened
a campaign at the head of three armies: the first, com-
manded* by himself, having under his orders Conne'table
Montmorency; the second, commanded by Marechal de
Saint- Andre, and the third commanded by the Due de
Nevers. "

"And what next?" asked the Emperor.

"Next, sire, the King of France has laid siege to Marien-
bourg, and taken it; he is now marching on Bouvines. "

"And on what day did he lay siege to Marienbourg ?"
said Charles.

"On the 13th of April last, sire."

Charles Y. turned round to Emmanuel Philibert.

"Well," he asked him in French, "what do you say of
the date, Emmanuel?"

"A fatal date, indeed!" replied the latter.

"That is sufficient," said Charles V. to the messenger;
4 'leave us."

Then, to the usher —

"Take as much care of that captain as if he brought us
good news," said the emperor. "Go!"

This time Emmanuel Philibert did not wait for the Em-
peror to .question him. Before even the hangings fell again,
he began —

"Luckily," said he, "if we can do nothing, august em-
peror, against the election of Paul IV. : if we can do noth-
ing against the death of your beloved mother — we can do
something against the taking of Marienbourg."

"And what can we do?"

"Take it back again!"

"Yes, you may, not I, Emmanuel."

"Why not you?" said the Prince of Piedmont

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 117

Charles V. raised himself from the divan, and, drawing
himself up with difficulty, attempted to walk; but he could
only take a few steps, limping.

He shook his head, and, turning to his nephew —

"See, look at my legs," he said: "they no longer sus-
tain me now, either on foot or horseback; look at my hands;
they can no longer hold a sword. There is a saying, Em-
manuel, that he who can no longer hold a sword can no
longer hold a sceptre."

"What are you saying, sire?" exclaimed Emmanuel,
astounded.

' l A thing of which I have often thought, and of which
I shall think again. Emmanuel, everything warns me that
it is time to leave my place to another: the surprise of Inns-
pruck, from which I had to fly half -naked; the retreat of
Metz, where I left the third of rny army and the half of my
reputation; yet, more than all that, look you, this disease
which human strength cannot long resist ; this disease which
medicine cannot cure; this frightful, inexorable, cruel dis-
ease, which invades the body from the crown of the head
to the soles of the feet, which contracts the nerves with
intolerable pains, which penetrates the bones, freezes the
marrow, and converts into solid chalk .the beneficent oil
spread through our joints to facilitate their movements;
this disease, which mutilates a man lirnb by limb more
cruelly, more surely, than does steel or fire or all the im-
plements of war, and which breaks the strength and serenity
of the soul under the tortures of matter — this disease is in-
cessantly crying out to rne: 'You have had enough of power,
enough of sovereignty ! Return into the nothingness of life
before returning into the nothingness of the tomb ! Charles,
by the grace of God, Emperor of the Romans, Charles, King
of Germany, Castile, Leon, Granada, Aragon, Naples, Sicily,
Majorca, Sardinia, and the islands and Indias of both oceans,
make way for another, for another!' '
Emmanuel wished to speak.
The Emperor arrested him by a gesture.

118 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"And then, and then," continued Charles V., "there is
another thing I had forgotten to tell you ! As if the disso-
lution of this poor body was too slow for the wishes of my
enemies, as if defeats and heresies and the gout were not
sufficient, the poniard has come to play a part in the
drama!"

"How, the poniard?" exclaimed Emmanuel.

The face of Charles V. was overcast.

"An attempt was made to assassinate me to-day, " he said.

"An attempt to assassinate your Majesty?" cried Em-
manuel, terrified.

"Why not?" replied the Emperor, with a smile. "Have
you not just now reminded me that I was a man ?"

"Oh!" cried .Emmanuel, scarcely recovering from the
emotion this intelligence had caused him; "and who is
the wretch?"

"Ah! yes, indeed!" said the Emperor. "Who is the
wretch? I hold the poniard, but not the hand!"

"In fact," said Emmanuel, "I just now saw a man
bound in the antechamber — "

"That is the wretch, as you call him, Emmanuel. But
who has employed him ? The Turk ? I do not believe so ;
Soliman is a loyal enemy. Henri II. ? I do not even sus-
pect him. Paul IV.? He has not been long enough elected;
and then the popes — they generally prefer poison to the
dagger: Ecclesia, abhorret a sanguine. Octavio Farnese ? He
is too paltry a person to venture on attacking me — the im-
perial bird that Maurice did not dare to take, not being
acquainted, he said, with a cage large enough to hold him.
The Lutherans of Augsburg or the Calvinists of Geneva ?
I am altogether puzzled: and yet I should like to know —
Listen, Emmanuel, this man has refused to answer my ques-
tions; take him into your tent and question him in your
turn. Do with him wh'atever you please; I give him to
you. But understand well — he must be made to speak.
The nearer the enemy is to me, and the more powerful he
is, the greater need I have to know him. ' '

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 119

Then, after a moment's pause, lie fixed his gaze on Em-
manuel Philibert, who held his eyes pensively bent toward
the ground.

"By the way," he said, "your cousin Philip has arrived
at Brussels. ' '

The transition was so abrupt that Emmanuel started.
He raised his head, and his glance met that of the Emperor.
This time he shuddered.

"Well?" he asked.

' ' Well, ' ' returned Charles, ' ' I shall be happy to see my
son again. Would you not say that he guesses the hour
is come and the moment favorable for him to succeed me ?
But before I see him again, Emmanuel, I recommend my
assassin to you. ' '

"In an hour," replied Emmanuel, "your Majesty shall
know all you desire to know. ' '

And, bowing to the Emperor, who offered him his muti-
lated hand, Emmanuel Philibert withdrew, convinced that
the thing of which Charles Y. had spoken to him as if it
were a mere casual remark introduced into the conversa-
tion, was, of all the events of the day, the one to which he
attached the most importance.

XT

ODOARDO MARAVIGLIA

ON RETIRING-, Emmanuel Philibert cast a fresh look
on the prisoner, and this look confirmed him in his
first idea; that is to say, that he was going to deal
with a gentleman. He made a sign to the leader of the four
soldiers to approach him.

"My friend," he said, "in five minutes you will, by order
of the Emperor, conduct this man into my tent. ' '

Emmanuel might have dispensed with naming Charles
V. : it was known that the latter had delegated to him all

120 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

his powers; and, in general, the soldiers, who worshipped
him, would have obeyed him as they would have obeyed
the Emperor himself.

' ' Your order shall be executed, your Highness, ' ' replied
the sergeant.

The duke resumed the road to his lodgings.

The tent of Emmanuel was not, like that of the Emperor,
a splendid pavilion, divided into four compartments ; it was
the tent of a soldier cut in two by a piece of mere canvas.

Scianca-Ferro was seated at the door.

"Kemain where you are," said Emmanuel to him; "but
take some weapon or other. ' '

"Why?" asked Scianca-Ferro.

' ' A man is about to be brought hither who has attempted
to assassinate the Emperor. I intend to question him with-
out any witnesses. Look well at him when he enters; and,
if he attempts to violate the pledge, which he will doubtless
give, by trying to escape, stop him — but living, you under-
stand ? It is important that he live ! ' '

"Then," said Scianca-Ferro, "I do not need weapons;
my arms are sufficient. ' '

" Do as you like ; you are warned. ' '

1 ' Do not be disturbed about the matter, ' ' said Scianca-
Ferro.

The prince entered his tent, and found Leone, or rather
Leona, waiting for him. As he returned alone, and as the
curtain of his tent fell behind him, Leona came to meet him
with open arms.

' l You are here at last, my love ! My God ! what a terri-
ble scene was that at which we have been present ! Alas !
you were quite right in telling me that my emotion and
paleness would lead one to take me for a woman."

"What would you have, Leona? These are ordinary
scenes in the life of a soldier, and you ought to be accus-
tomed to them by this time." Then, smiling, "Look at
Scianca-Ferro, and take him for your model," he added.

"How can you utter such words as those with a smile,

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 121

Emmanuel? Scianca-Ferro is a man: he loves you as much
as a man can love a man, as I well know; but I love you,
Emmanuel, to a degree that cannot be expressed, as some-
thing without which one no longer lives ! I love you as the
flower loves the dew, as the bird loves the forest, as the
dawn loves the sun. With you 1 live, exist, and love;
without you I am no more ! ' '

"My own darling," said Emmanuel, "yes, I know you
are at the same time grace, devotion, and love; I know that
you move beside me, but that it is really in me that you
live, and so for you I have no mysteries or secrets. ' '

"Why do you say this?"

"Because a man is about to be brought hither; because
this man is a great criminal whom I wish to question; be-
cause he will perhaps make important revelations — who
knows ? — revelations that may compromise the highest
personages. Pass to that side of the tent. Listen if you
wish; whatever I hear will, I know, be heard by myself
alone. ' '

Leona shrugged her shoulders. "Except you, " she said,
"what is the rest of the world to me ?"

And the young girl, sending a caress to her lover with
her hand, disappeared behind the curtain.

It was time ; the five minutes were passed, and, with the
usual military punctuality, the sergeant arrived, conducting
his prisoner.

Emmanuel received him seated, and half lost in the
shadow. From the midst of this shadow he cast a third
look, deeper and more prolonged, on the prisoner.

He was a young man of from thirty to thirty-five. His
stature was so lofty and his face so distinguished that his
disguise, as we have said, had not prevented Emmanuel
Philibert from recognizing him as a gentleman.

"Leave the gentleman alone with me," said the prince
to the sergeant.

The sergeant could only obey; he went out with his
three men.

122 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

The prisoner fixed his keen and piercing eye on Em-
manuel Philibert.

The latter rose, and went straight up to him. "Sir,"
said he, "those people did not know with whom they had
to do, and so they have bound you. You are going to give
me your word of honor not to attempt to escape, and I am
going to untie your hands. ' '

"lam a peasant, and not a gentleman," said the mur-
derer; "I cannot, consequently, give you my word of honor
as a gentleman. ' '

' ' If you are a peasant, that word of honor does not bind
you to anything. Give it to me, then, since it is the only
pledge I require of you. ' '

The prisoner did not answer.

"Then," said Emmanuel, "I will untie your hands with-
out the word of honor. I do not fear to find myself alone
with a man, even though that man had no honor to pledge!"

And the prince began untying the hands of the unknown.

The latter took a step backward. "Wait," he said; "on
the faith of a gentleman, I shall not attempt to escape!"

"Come, now," said Emmanuel, smiling, "what the mis-
chief! dogs, horses, and men know each other;" and he
finished loosening the cord. "There! you are free; now
let us talk."

The prisoner gazed coldly on his bruised hands, and let
them fall by his side. "Talk?" he repeated, with irony;
"and of what?"

"Why," replied Emmanuel Philibert, "of the cause that
led you to this crime. ' '

"I have said nothing," replied the unknown, "and I
have nothing to say."

"You have said nothing to the Emperor, whom you
wished to kill, that is conceivable; you said nothing to
the soldiers who arrested you, that I can easily understand ;
but to me, a gentleman who treats you, not as a vulgar
assassin, but as a gentleman — to me you will tell every-
thing."

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 123

"For what good?"

' ' For what good ? I am about to tell you : because I do
not regard you as a man paid by some coward who has
placed your arm at the end of his own, not daring to strike
himself. For what good ? Because you must not be hanged
as some thief or lurking assassin, but decapitated as a noble
and a lord. ' '

' ' They have threatened to torture me to make me speak, ' '
said the prisoner; "let them do it!"

"Torture would be a useless cruelty; you would un-
dergo it and you would not speak; you would be muti-
lated, and not vanquished; you would keep your secrext
and leave the shame to your tormentors. No, that is
not what I want; I want you to speak to me, a gentle-
man and a prince, as you would speak to a priest. And if
you judge it unsafe to speak to me, it is because you are
one of those wretches with whom I did not wish to confound
you ; it is because you have acted under the influence of a
base passion you dare not avow; it is because — "

The prisoner drew himself up to his full height, and, in-
terrupting, said:

"My name is Odoardo Maraviglia, monsieur! Eevive
your recollections, and stop insulting me."

At this name of Odoardo Maraviglia, Emmanuel thought
he heard a stifled cry in the other compartment of the tent;
what he was sure of was that tlje canvas that divided it trem-
bled, as if something had set it in motion.

On his part, Emmanuel felt something vibrate strongly in
his memory at the sound of that name. In fact, that name
had served as a pretext for the war which had deprived him
of his states.

"Odoardo Maraviglia!" he said. "Are you the son of
Francesco Maraviglia, the French ambassador at Milan?"

"I am his son."

Emmanuel concentrated his thoughts on the distant rec-
ollections of his boyhood ; he found that name among them,
but it threw no light on the present situation.

(6)_Yol. 20

124 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

''Your name," he said, "is surely the name of a gentle-
man; but it does not recall any memory connected with the
crime of which you are accused. ' '

Odoardo smiled disdainfully.

"Ask the most august emperor," said he, "if there is the
same obscurity in his memory that there is in yours. ' '

"Excuse me, sir," returned Emmanuel; "at the time
when Comte Francesco de Maraviglia disappeared I was still
a child; I was hardly eight years old. It is not astonish-
ing, then, that I was ignorant of a disappearance which, as
I think I can recall, remained a mystery for everybody."

' ' Well, monseigneur, I am about to throw some light on
this mystery. You know what a wretched prince was the
last Sforza, eternally wavering between Frangois I. and
Charles V., according as the genius of victory favored the
one or the other. My father, Francesco Maraviglia, was ap-
pointed envoy extraordinary to him by Frangois I. This
was in 1534. The Emperor was occupied in Africa; the
Duke of Saxony, the ally of Frangois, had just made peace
with the King of the Romans; Clement VII., another ally
of France, had just excommunicated Henry VIII. , King of
England. Everything turned to the detriment of the Em-
peror in Italy. Sforza, who still owed four hundred thou-
sand ducats, turned, like every one else, and intrusted all
his political fortunes to the envoy extraordinary of King
Frangois I. It was a great triumph. Francesco Maraviglia
had the imprudence to boast of it. The words he spoke
crossed the seas, and startled Charles V. in presence of the
Turks. Alas! fortune is fickle. Two months after, Clem-
ent VII. , who was the strength of the French in Italy, died ;
Tunis was taken by Charles V., and the Emperor, with his
victorious army, landed in Italy. An expiatory victim was
necessary. Francesco Maraviglia was marked by fate to be
that victim. In a quarrel between the servants of Comte
Maraviglia and some of the rabble of Milan, two of the lat-
ter happened to be slain. The duke only wanted a pretext
for keeping his promise to the august emperor. The man

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 125

who for a year had been more powerful in Milan than the
duke himself was arrested as a vulgar malefactor, and con-
ducted to the citadel. My mother was present; she had
with her my sister, a child four years old. I was in Paris,
at the Louvre ; I was one of the pages of Fra^ois I. The
count was torn from the arms of my mother ; he was dragged
away without the poor woman being told what he was charged
with, or where he was being taken. Eight days passed, dur-
ing which, despite all their efforts, the countess could dis-
cover nothing as to the fate of her husband. Maraviglia
was known to be immensely rich; his wife was able to pur-
chase his liberty at his weight in gold. One night a man
knocked at the door of my mother's palace; it was opened
for him; he asked to speak to the countess without wit-
nesses. ETery thing was of importance under the circum-
stances. Through the agency of friends and Frenchmen
my mother spread a report through the city that she would
give five hundred ducats to whoever would tell her where
my father was. Probably this man, who desired to speak
to her alone, was bringing news of the count, and, fearing
betrayal, wished, by excluding witnesses, to insure secrecy.

"She was not mistaken; this man was one of the jailers
of the fortress of Milan, where my father was imprisoned.
Not only did he come to tell where my father was, but he
brought a letter from him. On recognizing her husband's
handwriting, she counted out the five hundred ducats.

"The letter of my father announced his arrest, and that
he had been placed in solitary confinement, but did not
express any keen anxiety as to the result. My mother, in
her reply, told her husband to dispose of her; her life and
fortune were his. Five days passed. In the middle of the
night the same man knocked at the palace; it was opened,
and he was immediately introduced to the countess. The
situation of the prisoner had, in the meantime, been aggra-
vated. He was placed in another dungeon, and his confine-
ment was made more rigidly secret.

" 'His life,' said the jailer, 'was in peril.'

126 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"Did this man want to extract some large sum from the
countess, or was he telling the truth ? Either of these two
hypotheses might be correct. But fear induced my mother
to adopt the latter. Moreover, she questioned the jailer,
and his replies, while giving evidence of cupidity, also bore
the impress of frankness.

"She gave him the same sum as on the first occasion,
and told him at all hazards to form some plan for the
count's escape. As soon as such a plan was arranged, he
would receive a sum of five thousand ducats; and, once the
count was out of danger, twenty thousand more would be
handed over to him.

"It was a fortune! The jailer left the countess, promis-
ing to think over what he had just heard. The countess,
on her side, made inquiries into the situation; she had
friends near the duke; she knew through them that the
situation was even worse than it had been described by
the jailer. It was intended to prosecute the count as a
spy. She awaited impatiently the visit of the jailer; she
did not even know his name; and, even though she knew
it, would she not ruin the jailer and ruin herself, if she were
rash enough to inquire after him ?

"However, one thing reassured her somewhat: there was
to be a prosecution. What accusation could they bring
against my father ? The death of these two Milanese ? It
was an affair between domestics and peasants, with which a
gentleman, an ambassador, could have nothing to do. But
some voices said, quite low, that there would be no prosecu-
tion ; and these voices were the most sinister of all, for they
let it be understood that the count would not the less surely
be condemned for all that. At last, my mother was startled
one night by the noise of the knocker on the door; she was
beginning to recognize the manner in which her nocturnal
visitor knocked; she awaited him on the threshold of her
bedchamber. He addressed her with even more mystery
than usual; he had found a means of escape, and was come
to propose it to the countess. This was the plan he adopted.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 127

"The dungeon of the prisoner was separated from the
lodging of the jailer by a single gallery, opening into the
dungeon by means of an iron door barred at the top. The
jailer had the key of this second dungeon as well as of
the first. He proposed to bore through the wall behind
his bed, at a spot concealed from every eye. Through
this opening he would enter the empty cell, and from there
pass into the count's dungeon. The fetters of the count
knocked off, he could pass from his dungeon into the
neighboring cell, and then into the jailer's room.

"There he would find a ladder of ropes, by the aid of
which he would descend into the fosse, at the darkest and
most solitary part of the wall ; a carriage would wait for the
count a hundred yards from the fosse, and would carry him
out of the duke's states with all the speed of two horses.
The plan was good; the countess accepted it, but, fearing
some deception might be practiced on her with regard to the
count, and she might be told he was saved while still a cap-
tive, she required to be present at this flight. The jailer
objected the difficulty of introducing her into the fortress;
but by a single word the countess removed this difficulty.
She had obtained permission for herself and her daughter
to see her husband — a permission she had not yet availed
herself of, and could therefore still make use of it. On the
day appointed for the count's flight, she would enter the for-
tress at nightfall; she would see the count; then, on leaving
him, instead of quitting the fortress, she would enter the
jailer's room. There she would await the moment for the
prisoner's flight. The jailer, who would depart with the count,
would receive from the latter the sum agreed on. The carriage
awaiting them was to contain a hundred thousand ducats.

"The jailer was sincere in his offers; he accepted. The
flight was arranged for the day after the next day. Before
leaving, the jailer received his five thousand ducats, and
indicated the place where the carriage was to be stationed.
The care of this carriage was confided by the countess to
one of her servants, a man of tried fidelity.

128 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"But, pardon, monseigneur, " said Odoardo, interrupting
himself. "I forget I am speaking to a stranger, and that all
these details, full of emotion and life for me, are indifferent
to my listener. ' '

"You are mistaken, sir," said Emmanuel; "I desire, on
the contrary, to make appeal to your memory, in order that
I myself may be able to share in all your recollections.
I am listening."

Odoardo continued:

"The two days passed in all the anguish that precedes
the execution of such a project. One thing, however, tran-
quillized the countess: it was that the jailer had such an
overpowering interest in the success of the enterprise; a
hundred years' fidelity would not give this man the reward
to be obtained by a quarter of an hour's treason. Ten times
the countess asked herself why she had not decided on mak-
ing the attempt at the end of twenty- four hours instead of
at the end of forty- eight. It seemed as if the last twenty-
four hours would never end, or would lead to some catas-
trophe that would upset the plan, however well conceived
and ingenious it might be. The time swept by, measured
by the hand of eternity. The hours struck with their ordi-
nary impassibility. At last that one arrived that was to tell
her the moment had come to enter the prison. In presence
of the countess, the carriage was laden with all the objects
necessary for the flight of the count, in order that he might
not be forced to stop on the route; two horses had been led
beyond Pavia, so that he could make about thirty leagues
without any delay. At eleven o'clock the horses would be
harnessed to the carriage, which at midnight would be at
the spot agreed upon.

"Once out of danger, the fugitive would take steps to
warn the countess, and the latter would join her husband,
wherever he might be. The hour struck. Face to face
with the moment of execution, the countess now thought
it had come very soon. She took her little daughter by
the hand, and directed her course toward the prison. One

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 12D

fear agitated her during the journey: it was that as the
permit was dated eight days back, she might be refused
entrance to the prison.

' ' The countess was mistaken ; she was introduced, without
any difficulty, to the prisoner. The reports she heard were
not exaggerated; and the manner in which a man of the
count's rank was treated showed there could be no illusion
on the fate that awaited him. The ambassador of France
had a chain on his foot, as if he were a vile felon. The
interview would have been very painful, if escape had not
been imminent and certain. During this interview all that
was not yet arranged was finally settled.

"The count was resolved on everything; he knew he had
no quarter to expect; the Emperor had positively insisted
on his death — "

Emmanuel Philibert made a movement.

"Are you sure of what you say, sir ?" he asked severely.
"Do you know this is a grave accusation you are making
against so great a prince as the Emperor Charles V.?"

"Does your Highness order me to stop, or permit me to
continue?"

"Continue! but why not answer my question?"

"Because the progress of my narrative will, I fancy,
render that question useless. ' '

"Continue, then, sir," said Emmanuel Philibert.

XII

WHAT PASSED IN THE DUNGEON OF THE FORTRESS OF

MILAN ON THE NIGHT OF THE 14TH AND

15TH OF NOVEMBER, 1534

"\ FEW minutes after nine," returned Odoardo, "the
jailer came to warn the countess that it was time to
withdraw. The sentries were about to be changed,
and it was well the sentinel who had seen her enter should
see her leave. The separation was cruel ; and yet in three

A

130 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

hours they would see each other again, never more to be
separated. The child uttered piteous cries, and refused to
abandon her father. The countess had almost to tear her
from his arms. They passed the sentinel again, and plunged
into the darkest depths of the courtyard. From the place
where they were they gained, with infinite precautions, and
without being seen, the house of the jailer. Once there,
the countess and her daughter were shut up in a cabinet,
and bidden not to utter a single word or make a single
movement, as an inspector might at any moment enter the
jailer's residence. The countess and her child kept them-
selves dumb and motionless. One hazardous movement,
one whispered word, might deprive a father and husband
of life.

"The three hours that still remained till midnight ap-
peared as long to the countess as the forty- eight hours that
had slipped by. At last the jailer opened the door.

" 'Come!' he said, in a low voice — a voice so low that
the countess and her daughter guessed what this man in-
tended to say, rather than what he said.

"The mother had not wished to leave her child, in order
that the father, on escaping, might give her a last kiss. Be-
sides, there are moments when, for an empire, one would
not separate from those one loves.

"Did she know what was about to happen, this poor
mother who was fighting for the life of her husband with
his executioners? Might she also not be forced to fly,
either with her husband, or on her own account? And
if she had to fly, could she part with her child?

"The jailer pushed the bed aside; an opening two and
a half feet high and two feet wide had been made in the
wall behind.

"It was more than was needed for all the prisoners in
the fortress to escape, one after another. Preceded by the
jailer, the mother and child entered the first dungeon.
After their passage, the wife of the jailer replaced the
bed, in which a boy of four years was sleeping. The

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 131

jailer, as I have said, had the key of the first dungeon;
he opened the door of it, having first taken good care to
oil the lock and the bolts, and found himself in the dun-
geon of the count. The latter had received, an hour before,
a file with which to cut through his chain; but, unaccus-
tomed to such labor, and, besides, fearing to be heard by
the sentry, who was walking in the corridor, he was hardly
half through the work. The jailer took the file in his turn;
and, while the count clasped his wife and child in his arms,
began filing the chain. Suddenly he lifted his head, and
remained listening, with one knee on the ground, his body
resting on the hand that held the file, and the other hand
extended in the direction of the door. The count wished
to question him.

" 'Silence!' he said; 'something unusual is passing in
the fortress!'

" 'Oh, my God!' murmured the countess, frightened.

" 'Silence!' repeated the jailer.

' ' Every one was silent ; they held their breath as if they
would never breathe again. These four individuals resem-
bled a group of bronze, representing all the shades of fear,
from astonishment to terror. A slow and deep noise was
heard, increasing as it approached. It was that of several
persons in line of march. By the measured footfall of the
steps it might be gathered that among these persons was a
certain number of soldiers.

" 'Come!" said the jailer, taking the countess and the
child each by an arm, and dragging them with him, 'come!
It is doubtless some night visit, some round of the gov-
ernor. But, in any case, you must not be seen. As soon
as the visitors have quitted the dungeon of the count, if,
indeed, they enter it, we can resume the work where we
left off.'

' ' The countess and her daughter opposed a weak resist-
ance. Besides, the prisoner himself pushed them toward
the door. They passed out of it, followed by the jailer,
who closed it after them. As I have told your Highness,

132 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

there was in the second dungeon a grated door, opening into
the first, and through which, thanks to the darkness and the
closeness of the bars, one could see everything without
being seen.

"The countess held her daughter in her arms. The
mother and child, hardly breathing, glued their faces to
the bars to see what was going to happen.

' ' The hope they had for a moment entertained, that the
business of the new-comers was not with the count, was soon
dissipated. The procession halted at the door of the dun-
geon, and the key was heard grating in the lock. At the
spectacle presented to her eyes the countess could hardly
refrain from a cry of terror; it was evident the jailer guessed
as much.

" 'Not a word, madame; not a syllable! not a gesture,
whatever happens ! or — '

"He thought for a moment what means he should adopt
to impose silence on the countess; then, drawing a thin,
sharp blade from his breast —

" 'Or I poniard your child!' he said.

" 'Wretch!' stammered the countess.

" 'Oh!' he replied, 'each one here must think of his own
life; and that of a poor jailer is, in the eyes of the poor
jailer, of as much value as that of a noble countess!'

' ' The countess placed her hand on the mouth of the child
in order to silence the child. As to herself, after the threat
of the jailer, she was sure she would not let a sound escape.

"This is what the countess saw from the other side of
the door, and what had torn from her the cry stifled by the
jailer.

"First, two men, clad in black, and having each a torch
in his hand ; behind them, a man bearing a parchment un-
folded, from which hung a big red seal; behind this man,
another man, masked, and muffled in a brown robe ; behind
the man masked, a priest. They entered, one by one, into
the dungeon without the countess betraying her emotion by
a word or by a gesture; and, moreover, when they entered,

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 133

the poor woman saw, outlined in the shadow of the corridor,
a group still more sinister! Facing the door was a man
wearing a costume half black, half red, his two hands rest-
ing on the hilt of a long broad naked sword. Behind him
were six Brothers of Mercy, clad in black-hooded cloaks,
with openings for the eyes only, and bearing a bier on their
shoulders. Finally, beyond them were seen the mustaches
of a dozen soldiers drawn up against the wall. The two
men holding the torches, the man holding a parchment,
the man masked, and the priest entered, as I have said,
into the dungeon. Then the door was shut, leaving out-
side the executioner, the Brothers of Mercy, and the
soldiers.

"The count was standing, leaning against the gloomy
prison- wall, from which loomed out his pale features. His
eye sought, behind the bars of the door, the direction of
the frightened eyes he could not see, but which he guessed
were glued to those bars. Those spectral visitors, mute and
unlocked for though they were, left him no doubt as to
the fate that awaited him. Besides, if he had had the good
fortune to have reason for doubting, his doubt would not
have been of long duration.

"The two men bearing torches placed themselves, the
one on his right, the other on his left ; the masked man and
the priest stayed near the door; the man holding the parch-
ment advanced.

' ' ' Count, ' he asked, ' do you believe that you are fit to
meet God ?'

" 'As fit as one can be,' replied the count, in a calm
voice, 'who has nothing to reproach himself with.'

" 'So much the better!' replied the man with the parch-
ment ; ' for you are condemned, and I am come to read your
sentence of death. '

"'Pronounced by what tribunal?' asked the count,
ironically.

" 'By the all-powerful justice of the duke.'

14 'On what accusation?'

134 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

" 'On that of the most august emperor, Charles V.'

" 'It is well. I am ready to hear the sentence. '

' ' ' On your knees, count ! It is on his knees that a man
about to die should hear the sentence that condemns him. '

" 'When he is guilty, but not when he is innocent.'

" 'Count, you are not beyond the common law: on your
knees ! or we shall be constrained to employ force. '

" 'Try!' said the count.

" 'Let him stand,' said the masked man; 'let him cross
himself only, in order to place himself under the protection
of the Lord!'

"The count started at the sound of this voice.

" 'Duke Sforza, ' he said, turning toward the masked
man, 'I thank you.'

' ' ' Oh, it is the duke, ' murmured the countess ; ' perhaps
I might prevail on him to pardon. '

" 'Silence, madame, if you value the life of your child!'
said the jailer, in a whisper.

' ' The countess gave utterance to a groan which was heard
by the count, and made him start. He hazarded a gesture
with his hand, which meant 'Courage!' then, as the masked
man had invited him, he said aloud, making the sign of the
cross —

" 'In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Ghost. '

" ''Amen!'1 murmured those present.

' ' Thereupon the man with the parchment began to read
the sentence. It was rendered in the name of Duke Fran-
cesco Maria Sforza, at the request of the Emperor Charles
V., and it condemned Francesco Maraviglia, agent of the
King of France, to be executed at night, in a dungeon, as
a traitor, spy, and betrayer of state secrets.

"A second groan reached the ear of the count — a groan
so faint that he alone was able, not to perceive, but to
divine it.

"He turned his gaze toward the spot from which this
doleful sound came.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 135

" 'Unjust as is the sentence of the duke,' he said, 'I re-
ceive it without trouble and without anger. However, as
the man who cannot defend his life ought to defend his
honor, I appeal from the sentence of the duke. '

" 'And to whom?' asked the masked man.

1 1 i rpo my kj-Qg an(;-[ master, Frangois I. , in the first place,
and then to the future and to God ! — to God, in whose hands
are all men, and particularly princes, kings, and emperors. '

41 'Is it the only tribunal to which you appeal ?' said the
masked man.

" 'Yes, and I summon you to appear before that tribunal,
Duke Francesco Maria Sforza!'

" 'And pray when?' retorted the masked man.

" 'In the same time that Jacques de Molay, Grand
Master of the Templars, assigned to his judge; that is to
say, in a year and a day. To-day is the 15th of November,
1584; on the 16th of November, 1535, then — Do you hear
me, Duke Francesco Maria Sforza ?'

"And he stretched forth his hand toward the masked
man to emphasize the menace and the summons. But for
the mask hiding the face of the duke, his paleness would
have been visible to all; for it was he, beyond all doubt,
who was present at the agony of his victim. For a moment
it was the condemned who triumphed, and the judge who
trembled before him.

" 'It is well,' said the duke; 'you have a quarter of an
hour to pass with this holy man before undergoing your
sentence. '

"And he pointed to the priest.

' ' ' Try to finish in a quarter of an hour, for you shall not
have a minute longer. '

"Then, turning to the man of God—

' ' ' Father, ' he said, ' do your duty. '

"And he left, with the two torch-bearers and the man
with the parchment.

"But he left the door wide open behind him, in order
that his eyes and the eyes of the soldiers might be able to

136 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

see the interior of the dungeon, and follow all the move-
ments of the condemned, whom he had only quitted through
respect for the rite of compassion and so as not to hear the
voice of the penitent.

"Another sigh passed through the bars, and touched
gently the palpitating heart of the condemned. The coun-
tess had hoped that the door might be shut on him and the
priest, and — who knows? — perhaps by supplication and
tears, the sight of a wife on her knees praying for her
husband, of a child praying for her father, might prevail
on the man of God to consent to turn aside his head, and
let the count escape.

"It was the last hope of my poor mother; it failed her —

Emmanuel Philibert started. Sometimes he forgot that
this recital was made by a son who was relating the last mo-
ments of his father. It seemed to him as if he was reading
the pages of some terrible legend.

Then, on a sudden, a word recalled him to reality, and
made him comprehend that the recital did not issue from
the pen of a cold historian, but fell from the lips of a son,
a living chronicle of the agony of his father.

"Yes, it was the last hope of my poor mother; it failed
her!" repeated Odoardo, pausing a moment in his narra-
tion, on seeing the movement of Emmanuel. "For," he
continued, "on the other side of the door, lighted by the
two torches and by the glare of the' smoky lamps of the
corridor, the dismal spectacle was still there, terrible as
a vision, deadly as reality. The priest alone remained near
the count, as I have told you. The count, without disturb-
ing himself as to from whom this last consoler came, knelt
before him. Then began the confession — a strange confes-
sion, in which the man about to die did not seem to think
of himself, but to be preoccupied only with others ; in which
the words said to the priest were really addressed to the wife
and child, and ascended to Grod only after having passed
through the hearts of a mother and a daughter ! My sister
alone, if she still lives, could recount the tears with which

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 137

this confession was received; for I was not there. I, a merry
lad, was playing, laughing, singing, perhaps, ignorant of
what was passing within three hundred leagues of me, at
the very moment when my father, at the threshold of death,
was speaking of his absent son to my weeping mother and
sister!"

Oppressed by this memory, Odoardo stopped an instant;
then he resumed, stifling a sigh:

"The quarter of an hour was soon passed. The masked
man, with a watch in his hand, followed the face of priest
and penitent; but when the fifteen minutes had elapsed —

" 'Count,' he said, 'the time allotted you to remain
among the living has expired. The priest has finished his
task ; it is for the executioner now to do his. '

"The priest gave the count absolution, and rose. Then,
pointing to the crucifix, he retired backward toward the
door, and as the priest retired, the executioner advanced.
The count remained on his knees. 'Have you any last
petition to address to Duke Sforza or to Charles Y. ?'

" 'I have no petition to address to any one but God,'
replied the count.

" 'Then you are ready ?' asked the same man.

" 'You see it, since I am on my knees.'

"And, in fact, the count was on his knees, his face
turned toward the bars of that gloomy door through which
his wife and child were looking at him. His mouth, which
seemed to continue to pray, sent them words of love,
which was still a last prayer.

" ' If you do not wish my hand to sully you, count, ' said
a voice behind the victim, 'pull down the collar of your
shirt. You are a gentleman, and I have no right to touch
you except with the blade of my sword. '

"The count, without answering, pulled his shirt down to
his shoulders, and remained with the neck bare.

" 'Good and Gracious Lord!' said the count, 'Almighty
and Merciful God, into Thy hands I commend my spirit!'

' ' He had scarcely said the words when the sword of the

138 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

executioner flamed and hissed in the darkness, like a flash
of lightning, and the head of the victim fell from his shoul-
ders, rolling, as if with a last impulse of love, to the foot of
the grated door. A hoarse, muffled cry was heard at the
same time, and also the noise of a body falling backward.

"But the bystanders believed this cry was the last sound
uttered by the victim; the noise they thought was made by
his body falling on the flagstone of the dungeon —

"Excuse me, monseigneur, " said Odoardo, stopping;
"but if you wish to hear the rest I must have a glass of
water, for I feel faint. ' '

And, in fact, Emmanuel Philibert saw that the narrator
of this terrible history was pale and tottering. He ran for-
ward to support him, placed him on a pile of cushions, and
gave him the glass of water he asked for.

The sweat was running down the forehead of the prince,
and, soldier though he was, accustomed to fields of battle,
he seemed as near fainting as he whom he was succoring.

At the end of ten minutes Odoardo recovered.

"Would you know more, monseigneur?" he asked.

"I wish to know everything, sir," said Emmanuel;
"such narratives as yours are great lessons for princes who
are some day to reign. ' '

"Be it so," answered the young man; "besides, the most
terrible part is finished. ' '

He wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his
hand, and perhaps, also, his eyes, wet with tears at the same
time, and continued:

"When my mother recovered her senses, everything had
vanished like a vision, and she might have believed she
had Ijad a bad dream, if she had not found herself lying on
the bed of the jailer. Such terrible orders had been given
by her to my sister not to cry, for fear her sobs might be
heard, that, although the poor child believed she had lost
both father and mother, she regarded the latter with wide,
scared eyes, from which the tears were flowing; but these
tears continued to flow from the eyes of the child as silently

for t

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 139

for the mother as they did for the father. The jailer was
no longer there; there remained only his wife. She took
pity on the countess, and made her put on one of her gar-
ments; she dressed my sister in a suit of her son's, and at
daybreak she set out with them and guided them on the
road to Novara; then she gave two ducats to the countess,
and recommended her to God.

"My poor mother seemed pursued by a terrible vision.
She did not dream either of returning to the palace and
taking some money out of it, nor of finding the carriage in
which the count was to escape; she was mad with terror.
Her only care was to fly, to cross the frontier, to quit the
territories of the Duke of Milan. She disappeared with her
child in the neighborhood of Novara, and nothing further
was heard of her. What has become of my mother ? What
has become of my sister? I am utterly ignorant of their
fate ! The news of the death of my father reached Paris.
It was the king himself who informed me of it, at the same
time telling me I should never want his protection, and that
he was about to exact vengeance for the assassination of the
count by war.

"I asked the king's permission to accompany him.
Fortune, at the beginning, favored the arms of France.
We crossed the states of your father, of which the king
took possession; then we arrived at Milan.

"Duke Sforza had taken refuge with Paul III. at Rome.

"An inquiry was made into the murder of my father;
but it was impossible to find any one who had taken a share
in this murder, or had been present at it. Three days after
the execution the executioner suddenly died. The name of
the usher who read the sentence was unknown. The jailer
had taken flight with his wife and son.

"Tims, in spite of all inquiries, I could not even dis-
cover the spot where the body of my father rested. Twenty
years had elapsed since those useless inquiries when I re-
ceived a letter dated from Avignon.

"A man, who merely signed his initials, invited me to

140 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

come at once to Avignon if I wished to gain reliable infor-
mation on the fate of my father, Comte Francesco de Mara-
viglia. He gave me the name and address of a priest whose
mission it would be to conduct me to him if I accepted the
invitation.

"The letter offered me that which was the desire of my
whole life ; I set out on the very instant. I went straight
to the priest; the priest was prepared. He led me to the
writer. It was the jailer of the fortress of Milan. Seeing
my father dead, and knowing the spot where the carriage
was waiting with a hundred thousand ducats, the evil
spirit tempted him. He had placed my mother on his bed,
recommending her to his wife ; then he let himself down by
means of a rope-ladder, crept up behind the coachman, who
was waiting for my father, saying that he came from the
latter, stabbed him, and, after throwing his body into
the fosse, continued on his way, taking the carriage with
him.

"Once over the frontier, he took post-horses, gained
Avignon, sold the carriage, and, as no one ever claimed
its contents, he appropriated the hundred thousand ducats.
He then wrote to his wife and son to join him.

"But the hand of Grod was on this man. His wife died
first; next, after wasting away for ten years, the son joined
the mother; at last, he felt that his own turn would soon
come for rendering an account to God of what he had done
during his passage through this world. It was this sum-
mons from on high that made him repent and think of me.
You understand, therefore, what was his object in wishing
to see me.

"It was to confess everything to me, and to ask my
pardon, not for the death of my father, with which he had
no concern, but for the murder of the coachman and the
robbery of the hundred thousand ducats. As to the man
assassinated, there was no remedy for the crime ; the man
was dead.

"But as to the hundred thousand ducats, he had pur-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 141

chased with them a castle and a magnificent property at
Yille-neuve-lez- Avignon, on the revenues of which he
lived.

"I began by making him relate to me all the details of
the death of my father, not once, but ten times. For that
matter, the night had appeared so terrible to him that no
incident escaped him, and he recalled the slightest details
of the sinister event as if it had passed the evening before.
Unfortunately, he knew nothing of my mother and sister
except what his wife had told him, who lost sight of them
on the road to Kovara. They must have perished of hunger
and fatigue!

"I was rich, and had no need of this increase of fortune;
but a day might arrive when my mother and sister would
reappear. Not wishing to dishonor this man by a public
declaration of his crime, I had him make a gift of this
castle and estate to the Comtesse de Maraviglia and her
daughter. Then, as far as in me lay, and as God gave me
power, I pardoned him.

"But there my mercy ended. Francesco Maria Sforza
died in 1535, a year and a day after the summons given him
by my father to appear before the tribunal of God. I had
nothing further, therefore, to do with him; he was punished
for his weakness, if not for his crime.

"But there remained the Emperor Charles V. — the Em-
peror at the pinnacle of his power, at the summit of his
glory, at the height of his prosperity ! It was he who had
remained unpunished; it was he I resolved to strike.

"You will say that the men who bear the crown and
sceptre are to be judged only by God; but sometimes God
seems to forget.

"It is for men then to remember. I remembered — that
is all. But I was ignorant that the Emperor wore, under
his clothes, a coat of mail. He, too, remembered! I am
Odoardo Maraviglia, and I wished to slay the Emperor, be-
cause he had my father assassinated by night, and caused
my mother and sister to die of hunger and fatigue !

U2 * THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"I have spoken. Now, monseigneur, you know the
truth. I wished to kill; I deserve to be killed; but I am
a gentleman, and I demand the death of a gentleman. ' '

Emmanuel Philibert bowed his head in token of assent.

"It is just," he said, "and your demand shall be granted.
Do you desire to be free up to the moment of execution ?
By being free, I mean not being bound. ' '

"What must I do for this ?"

"Give me your word of honor not to escape."

"You have it already."

"Eenew it to me, then."

"I renew it; only make haste. The crime is public; the
confession is complete. What is the use of making me
wait?"

"It is not for me to fix the hour of the death of a man.
It must be according to the good pleasure of the Emperor
Charles V."

Then, summoning the sergeant —

"Conduct this gentleman to a private tent," said Em-
manuel, "and let him want for nothing! A single sentinel
will suffice to guard him: I have his parole as a gentle-
man. Go!"

The sergeant left, taking the prisoner with him. Em-
manuel Philibert followed him with his eyes until he was
some distance from his tent. Then, as he thought he heard
a feeble sound behind him, he turned.

Leona was standing on the threshold of the second com-
partment, the tapestry of which had fallen behind her.

It was the noise made by this tapestry falling which had
attracted the attention of Emmanuel Philibert.

Leona had her hands clasped; her face bore the trace
of the tears she had no doubt shed at the recital of the
prisoner.

"What do you want?" asked the prince.

' ' I want to say to you, ' ' she said — ' ' I want to say to you
that this man must not die!"

The countenance of Emmanuel became overcast

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 143

"Leona, " said Emmanuel, "you have not reflected on
what you ask. This man has committed a horrible crime,
if not in fact, at least in intention. ' '

' ' No matter, ' ' replied Leona, throwing her arms around
the prince's neck; "I repeat to you, this man must not die!"

' ' The Emperor will decide his lot, Leona. The only thing
I can do is to report everything to the Emperor. ' '

"And I tell you, though the Emperor condemned this
young man to a death of shame, you would still obtain his
pardon, would you not, Emmanuel?"

"Leona, you believe I have a power over the Emperor I
do not really possess. The imperial justice must follow its
course. If it condemns — "

"Even if it condemned, still must Odoardo Maraviglia
live; you hear me ? He must live, my dearest Emmanuel!"

"And why, pray?"

"Because," replied Leona — "because he is my brother!"

Emmanuel uttered a cry of amazement.

That woman dying of hunger and fatigue on the bank of
the Sesia, that child obstinately keeping the secret of her
birth and sex, that page refusing the diamond of Charles Y.
— all was explained by those four words which had just es-
caped from Leona in reference to Odoardo Maraviglia, "He
is my brother!"

XIII

THE DEMON OF THE SOUTH

AT THE very time the scene we have related was pass-
ing under the tent of Emmanuel Philibert, a great
event, announced by flourishes of trumpets and hur-
rying of soldiers, was creating excitement in the imperial
camp.

A little troop of horsemen had been distinguished com-
ing from the direction of Brussels; couriers had been sent

144 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

forward to meet this troop, and had returned galloping and
making irreat signs of joy. They announced that the leader
of the cavalcade was no less a person than the only son of
the most august emperor, Philip, Prince of Spain, King
of Naples, and husband of the Queen of England.

Amid the nourishes of trumpets and the cheers of the
first who perceived the prince, all left their tents and hur-
ried to greet the new-comer.

Philip was mounted on a handsome white steed, which
he managed gracefully enough. He was clad in violet
mantle and black tunic — the two mourning colors of kings;
his breeches were violet also, and he had on immense boots
of buffalo leather, and wore a little black cap, such as was
the fashion at the period, adorned with a silken band and a
black plume.

Eound his neck was the collar of the Grolden Fleece. He
was then a man of twenty- eight years, of middle height,
rather fat than lean, with cheeks somewhat puffed, a blond
beard, close, thin lips that rarely smiled, a straight nose,
and eyes that trembled under their lashes like those of
hares. Although he was handsome rather than ugly, the
ensemble of his physiognomy had nothing sympathetic; and
it might be easily seen that under that brow, wrinkled be-
fore its time, were harbored gloomy rather than pleasant
thoughts.

The Emperor had a great affection for him. As he had
loved his mother, he loved his son. But whenever a caress
drew the two hearts together, he felt that the prince's was
enveloped in a sheeting of ice which no embrace could ever
melt.

Sometimes, when he was long without seeing his son,
when he could no longer try to penetrate with his eyes the
troubled and shifting look of the young prince, he would
anxiously meditate in what direction this darksome miner,
eternally occupied with underground intrigues, was burrow-
ing in the interests of his ambition. Was it against their
common enemies ? Was it against himself ? And with this

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 145

doubt in his heart, he would let some of those terrible words
escape which Emmanuel Philibert had heard that very morn-
ing with reference to the prisoner.

The birth of the young prince had been as gloomy as his
life was to be. There are gloomy dawns which are reflec-
tions of the entire day. The Emperor received the news of
his birth, which took place on Tuesday, the 31st of May,
1527, at the same time as that of the death of the Conne-
table de Bourbon, the sack of Rome, and the captivity of
Clement VII. All rejoicings were forbidden at this birth,
for fear it might form a contrast with the universal mourn-
ing of Christendom.

Only a year after, the royal heir was recognized as Prince
of Spain. Then there were grand festivals; but the child
who as a man was to cause the shedding of so many tears —
the child did nothing but weep during these festivals.

He had just reached his sixteenth year, when the Em-
peror, wishing to make trial of him in war, ordered him to
compel the French, commanded by the Dauphin, to raise
the siege of Perpignan; but in order that he might not run
the risk of any check in this enterprise, he was accompanied
by six grandees of Spain, fourteen barons, eight hundred
gentlemen, two thousand cavalry, and five thousand in-
fantry.

Against such a reinforcement of fresh troops no headway
could be made. The French raised the siege, and the In-
fante of Spain began his military career with a victory.

But after the report he ordered to be laid before him of
this campaign, Charles V. easily understood that the in-
stincts of his son were not warlike. He reserved, there-
fore, to himself the risks of war and the uncertain fortunes
of battles, leaving to the heir of his power the study of poli-
tics, for which he seemed to have a natural bent.

At sixteen, the young prince had made such progress in
this great art of government that Charles V. did not hesitate
to name him governor of all the kingdoms of Spain.

In 1544, he married Dona Maria of Portugal, his cousin-

146 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

german, born in the same year as himself, and even in the
very hour.

He had a son, Don Carlos, the hero of a lamentable his-
tory, and of two or three tragedies. This son was born in
1545.

In fine, in 1548, Philip left Barcelona for the purpose of
visiting Italy in the midst of a frightful storm, which had
scattered the fleet of Doria, and forced it to return for the
moment into port; with a contrary wind, he attempted the
voyage again, landed at Genoa, from Genoa proceeded to
Milan, explored the battlefield of Pavia, required to be
shown the spot where Frangois I. surrendered his sword,
and measured with his eyes the depth of the ditch in which
the French monarchy was near being buried; then, taciturn
and silent as ever, he quitted Milan, crossed central Italy,
and joined the Emperor at Worms. Then Charles V.,
Flemish by birth and heart, presented him to his fellow-
countrymen of Namur and Brussels. ,

At Namur, Emmanuel Philibert received him, and did
him the honors of the city. The two cousins embraced each
other tenderly at their meeting, and afterward Emmanuel
gave him the spectacle of a little war, in which, it may be
well conceived, Philip did not take any part.

The festivals were not less sumptuous at Brussels than at
Namur. Seven hundred princes, barons, and gentlemen re-
ceived outside the gates the heir of the greatest monarchy in
the world. Then when this heir had been fully recognized
and seen, his father sent him back to Spain.

Emmanuel Philibert accompanied him to Genoa. It was
during this journey that the Prince of Savoy saw his father
for the last time.

Three years after the return of Philip into Spain, King
Edward VI. of England died, leaving the crown to his sister
Mary, daughter of Catherine, that aunt whom the Emperor
loved so much that he learned English, he -said, for no other
reason except to speak to her.

The new queen was pressed to choose a husband. She

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 147

was forty-six years old; consequently, she had little time to
lose. Charles Y. proposed his son Philip.

Philip had lost that charming Dona Maria, who had lived
only the age of the flowers. Four days after the birth of Don
Carlos, the women of the queen, curious to see a magnificent
auto-da-fe, left the new mother alone in front of a table cov-
ered with fruits. The sick woman had been forbidden to eat
of those fruits. A daughter of Eve on all points, the poor
princess disregarded the injunction. She rose, bit with her
beautiful young teeth, not into an apple, but into a melon,
and in twenty-four hours was dead.

Nothing, therefore, prevented Don Philip from marrying
Mary Tudor, from uniting England and Spain, and stifling
France between the island of the North and the peninsula of
the South.

It was the grand aim of the union.

Philip had two rivals for the hand of his cousin. They
were Cardinal Pole, a cardinal without being a priest — son
of Greorge, Duke of Clarence, brother of Edward IV., conse-
quently, cousin to the queen in nearly the same degree of
relationship as Philip; and the Earl of Courtenay, nephew
of Henry VIII., consequently, as nearly related as the two
others to Mary.

Charles V. began by making sure of the support of Mary
herself; and having gained this support through the influ-
ence of Father Henry, her confessor, he did not hesitate
to act.

The Princess Mary was an ardent Catholic. The title of
"Bloody Mary," given to her by successive English histori-
ans, is a- proof of it.

The Emperor began then by banishing from her presence
the Earl of Courtenay, a young man of thirty-two, hand-
some as an angel and brave as a Courtenay. He accused
him of being a zealous protector of heresy; and, in fact,
Mary regarded the two of her ministers who were most fa-
vorable to this marriage as strongly tainted with that false
religion of which her father had made himself the Pope, in

(7)_Yol. 20

148 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

order to have no further connection with the bishops of Rome,
as he called them.

This point having been well fixed in the mind of the
queen, Courtenay was no longer to be feared.

Kemained Cardinal Pole, perhaps less brave than Courte-
nay, but as handsome as he, and assuredly more of a states-
man, raised as he had been in the school of the popes.

Cardinal Pole was so much the more to be feared that,
before being crowned, Mary Tudor, with or without inten-
tion, had written to Pope Julius III. to send Cardinal Pole
to her as apostolic legate in order that the latter might labor
with her in the holy task of re-establishing their religion.
Luckily for Charles V., the Pope, who knew what Pole had
to suffer under Henry "VIII. , and what dangers he had en-
countered, hesitated sending all at once, in the midst of the
fermentation that reigned in England, a prelate of his distinc-
tion. He despatched, therefore, first, John Francis Com-
mendon, master of the chamber, to act near Mary; but the
queen wanted Pole, and not Commendon. She dismissed
the latter, begging him to hasten the arrival of the cardinal.

Pole started; but the Emperor had his spies at Eome.
He was informed of this departure; and as the legate a
atere was to cross Germany, and pass by Innspruck, Charles
V. ordered Mendoza, who commanded a body of cavalry
in this city, to arrest Cardinal Pole on his passage, on the
ground that he was too nearly related to the queen to give
her disinterested advice in the matter of her marriage with
Don Philip.

Mendoza was the kind of captain needed by princes in
such circumstances. He had ears only for the word of com-
mand. His orders were to arrest Cardinal Pole; he arrested
him and kept him prisoner until the articles of the marriage
contract between Philip of Spain and Mary of England were
signed.

These articles being signed, he was released. Pole took
it as a man of good sense should, and filled the office of
legate a latere not only to Mary, but to Philip.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 149

One of the articles declared that Mary Tudor, Queen of
England, could only marry a king; this did not embarrass
Charles Y. ; he made his son Philip king of Naples.

This success somewhat consoled the Emperor, saddened
by the two checks he had experienced: the one at Inns-
pruck, where, surprised in the night by Duke Maurice, he
had fled so precipitately that he forgot he had put on his
baldrick and forgotten his sword; the other before Metz,
the siege of which he had been forced to raise, abandon-
ing, in the slush and mud caused by a thaw, his cannon,
war material, and a third of his army.

"Oh," he cried, "fortune is then returning to me at last!"

Finally, on the 24th of July, 1554— that is to say, nine
months before the period at which we are arrived — the very
day of the feast of Saint-James, protector of Spain, Mary of
England was united to Philip of Spain. She who might be
called the Tigress of the North was united to him who was
to be the Demon of the South. Philip set out from Spain
accompanied by twenty-two vessels of war, carrying six
thousand men; but before entering Hampton port, he dis-
missed all these, having decided to approach England with
only the ships which Queen Mary sent to meet him. These
numbered eighteen. They were preceded by the largest
vessel ever built in England, and which was launched
for this occasion.

The vessels advanced to meet the prince a distance of
three leagues from the shore; and there, amid discharges
of artillery and rolling of drums and flourishes of clarions,
Philip passed from his own ship into that supplied by his
betrothed.

He was followed by sixty gentlemen, twelve being
grandees of Spain; among them, the Duke of Medina-Creli
and Euy Gomez de Silva had each forty pages and valets.
"In fine, it was reckoned a marvellous thing, and what
was never before seen," says Gregorio Leti, the historian
of Charles V., "that these sixty lords had among them
twelve hundred and thirty pages and attendants." The

150 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

marriage was celebrated at Windsor. Those who wish to
know how Queen Mary met her husband, what robe she
wore, what jewels adorned her, what was the form of the
amphitheatre surmounted by two thrones which awaited
the two spouses; those who wish to penetrate further still,
and learn the manner in which Mass was celebrated, the
manner in which their Majesties sat down to table, in fine,
that in which "they arose so adroitly from table, that al-
though there were before them a quantity of lords and
ladies, they disappeared through a secret door, and with-
drew into their chamber" — will find these details and many
others in the historian we have just quoted.

As to ourselves, interesting and picturesque as those de-
tails are, they would lead us too far, and we shall return
to the King of England and Naples, Philip II., who, after
nine months of marriage, appeared again on the Continent,
and at the moment when he was least expected, arrived, as
we have said, at the barriers of the camp, saluted by the
rolling of drums, the flourishes of trumpets, and by the
cheers of the German and Spanish soldiers who joined
his train.

Charles V. had been one of the first to be informed of
the unexpected arrival of his son; and glad that Philip had
no motive (so it appeared, at least) for concealing his pres-
ence from him in Flanders, since he was come to find him
in his camp, he made an effort, and, supported by the arms
of one of his officers, he dragged himself to the door of his
tent.

He was hardly there when he perceived Don Philip ad-
vancing toward him, amid shouts, drums and trumpets, as
if he were already master and lord.

"Well, well," murmured Charles Y., "it is the will
of God!" But as soon as Philip perceived his father, he
brought his horse to a standstill, and leaped to the ground;
then approaching, with his arms stretched out and head
uncovered and bent, he threw himself at the feet of the
Emperor.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 151

This humility chased every bad thought from the mind
of Charles V: He raised Philip, pressed him in his arms,
and, turning toward those who formed the train of the
prince —

"Thanks, gentlemen," he said, "for having divined the
joy the presence of my beloved son was to cause, and for
having announced it beforehand by your cheers and hur-
rahs." Then to his son, "Don Philip," he said, "it is
nearly five years since we have seen each other; come,
we have many things to converse about."

And saluting all this crowd, soldiers and officers assem-
bled before his tent, he leaned on the arm of his son, and
returned to the pavilion amid cries a thousand times re-
peated of "Long live the King of England!" and "Long
live the Emperor of Germany!" and "Long live Don
Philip!" and "Long live Charles V. !"

In fact, as the Emperor had presupposed, Philip had
very many things to say to him. And yet, after Charles
V. was seated on the divan, and Philip, refusing the honor
of sitting beside his father, had taken a chair, there was
a moment's silence.

It was Charles Y. who first broke this silence, which
Philip had kept perhaps through respect for his father.

"My son," said the Emperor, "nothing but your dear
presence could dissipate the bad impression produced on
me by the ill news received to-day."

"The most fatal news of all was already known to me,
as you can see by my garb, my father, ' ' answered Philip ;
"we have had the misfortune to lose, you a mother, I a
grandmother. ' '

"You have learned this news in Belgium, have you not,
my son?"

Philip bowed.

"In England, sire, our communications with Spain are
quite direct, while the courier your Majesty has received
has been obliged to come here from Grenoa by land; this
must have delayed him."

152 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"Yes, it must be as you say," said Charles Y. ; "but
[i part from this motive of sorrow, my son, I have another
subject for anxiety."

"Does your Majesty wish to speak of the election of
Paul IV., and of the league he has proposed to the King
of France — a league which must be signed at this hour?"

Charles V. regarded Don Philip with astonishment.

"My son," said he, "is it also an English vessel which
has made you as well informed as you are on this point?
The passage, however, from Civita Vecchia to Portsmouth
is long. ' '

' ' No, sire, the news has come to us from France ; hence
it happens that I know it before you. The passages of the
Alps and Tyrol are still encumbered with snows, and have
delayed your messenger; while ours came straight from
Ostia to Marseilles, from Marseilles to Boulogne, and from
Boulogne to London."

Charles V. frowned. He had long believed it was his
right to be informed of every grave event that happened
in the world; and here was his son, who knew before him,
not only the death of Queen Juana and the election of Paul
IV., but announced to him a thing of which he was igno-
rant; namely, the league signed between Henri II. and the
new Pope.

But Philip did not appear to perceive the astonishment
of his father.

" For that matter, " he continued, "all measures were so
well taken by Caraffa and his partisans that the treaty was
sent to the King of France during the conclave. This ex-
plains the boldness with which, after taking Marienbourg,
Henri II. marched on Bouvines and on Dinant, with the
aim, no doubt, of cutting off your retreat. ' '

"Oh, oh!" exclaimed Charles, "has he advanced as far
as you say, and am I threatened with a new surprise like
that of Innspruck?"

"No," said Philip, "for I hope your Majesty will not
refuse to conclude a truce with Henri II."

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 153

"By my soul!" cried the Emperor, "I should be very
foolish if I refused it, and even if I did not propose it."

"Sire," said Philip, "such a truce proposed by you
would render the King of France too proud. And so
Queen Mary and I have had the idea of devoting our-
selves to this task in the interest of your dignity."

"And you are come to ask from me authority to act?
Be it so : act ; lose no time ; send the most skilful ambassa-
dors to France — they can never arrive too soon. ' '

"It is what we have thought of, sire; and we have sent,
reserving to your Majesty full liberty to repudiate us, Car-
dinal Pole to King Henri to ask a truce. ' '

Charles shook his head.

"He will not arrive in time," he said; "and Henri will
be in Brussels before Pole has landed at Calais. ' '

"Consequently Pole has gone by Ostend, and has joined
the King of France at Dinant. "

"However able a negotiator he may be," said Charles V.,
with a sigh, "I doubt of his success in such a negotiation."

"I am then very happy to announce to your Majesty that
he has succeeded," said Philip. "The King of France ac-
cepts, if not a truce, at least a suspension of arms, during
which the conditions of a truce will be regulated. The
monastery of Yocelles, near Cambrai, has been selected by
him as the place where the conferences are to be held, and
Cardinal Pole, on coming to Brussels to announce to me the
result of his mission, told me he did not believe there would
be any difficulty in coming to an arrangement. ' '

Charles Y. regarded Philip with a certain admiration;
the latter, in the most humble fashion imaginable, had just
announced to him the happy issue of a negotiation which
he had regarded as impossible.

"What will be the duration of this truce?" he said.

"Real or conventional?"

"Conventional."

4 ' Five years, sire. ' '

"And real?"

154 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"As long as it shall please God."

"And how long do you believe, Don Philip, that its
continuance is likely to be pleasing to God?"

"Why," said the King of England, with an impercep-
tible smile, "just the time necessary for you to draw from
Spain a reinforcement of ten thousand Spaniards and for me
to send you ten thousand Englishmen from England. ' '

"My son," said Charles V., "this truce was my most
ardent desire ; and as it is you who have made it, I promise
you that it shall be you who will keep it or break it accord-
ing to your good pleasure. ' '

"I do not understand what my august emperor means,"
said Philip, whose self-control could not prevent him from
darting from his eyes a flash of hope and covetousness.

He had just got a glimpse, almost within reach of his
hand, of the sceptre of Spain and the Low Countries, and —
who knows ? — perhaps of the imperial crown.

Eight days after, a truce was signed in these terms:

1 ' There shall be a truce for five years, as well on sea as
on land, to be equally enjoyed by all the people, states,
kingdoms, and provinces of the Emperor, the King of
France, and King Philip.

"During all this space of time of five years, there shall
be a suspension of hostilities, and, however, each of these
potentates shall keep whatever he has taken in the course
of the war.

"His Holiness Paul IY. is comprehended in this truce."

Philip himself presented this treaty to the Emperor, who
cast an almost frightened glance on the impassive counte-
nance of his son.

All that was wanting to the treaty was the signature of
Charles V.

Charles Y. signed.

Then, when with infinite difficulty he had traced the
seven letters of his name —

"Sire," said he, giving for the first time this title to his
son, "return to London, and be ready to meet me at Brus-
sels on my first summons. ' '

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 155

XIY

IN WHICH CHARLES V. KEEPS THE PROMISE MADE TO
HIS SON DON PHILIP

ON FEIDAY the 25th. of October, 1555, there were
great crowds in the streets of the city of Brussels,
not only of the people of the capital of southern
Brabant, but of the other Flemish states of the Emperor
Charles V.

All this multitude was pressing toward the royal palace,
which no longer exists, but which then towered over the
city from the summit of Caudenberg.

The occasion of this excitement was that a great assem-
bly, the cause of which was yet unknown, had been con-
voked by the Emperor, and, having been adjourned once
before, was to be held to-day.

For this reason, the interior of the grand hall had been
adorned and hung with tapestry on the eastern side — that is
to say, in the direction of the barriers — and a sort of scaffold
had been there constructed, covered with magnificent carpets
and surmounted by a dais with the imperial arms, protect-
ing three armchairs, empty for the time, but evidently des-
tined to be soon occupied: that in the centre by the Em-
peror, that on the right by Don Philip, who had arrived the
evening before, and that on the left by Charles Y. 's sister,
Mary of Austria, Queen Dowager of Hungary.

Benches were arranged parallel to these three chairs, and
formed with them a kind of hemicycle.

Other seats were placed in front of the platform, arranged
like the benches in a theatre.

King Philip, Queen Mary, Queen Eleonore, widow of
Frangois L, Maximilian, King of Bohemia, Christina,

156 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Duchesse de Lorraine, had taken possession of their apart-
ments at the palace. Charles alone continued to inhabit
what he called his little house in the park.

At four in the afternoon he left this little house, mounted
on a mule, whose gentle pace made him suffer less than any
other mode of locomotion. As to going on foot, it was im-
possible to dream of it: the attacks of the gout had re-
doubled in violence; and the Emperor was not sure even
that he could walk from the threshold of the door to the
scaffold of the grand hall, or that he would not have to be
carried during that short passage. Kings and princes fol-
lowed the mule of the Emperor on foot.

The Emperor was clad in the imperial cope, all of cloth
of gold, over which fell the grand cordon of the Golden
Fleece. He had the crown on his head; but the sceptre,
which his hand had no longer the strength to bear, was
carried before him on a cushion of red velvet.

The persons who were to occupy the benches placed on
both sides of the armchairs and in front of the platform had
been introduced previously into the hall.

There were, on the right of the armchairs, the knights
of the Golden Fleece, seated on a tapestried bench.

On the bench on the left, also tapestried, were the
princes, the grandees of Spain, and the lords.

Behind them, on other benches not tapestried, were the
three councils —the council of state, the privy council, and
the council of finance.

Finally, on other benches placed in front, were, first,
the states of Brabant, then the states of Flanders, then the
other states according to their rank.

The galleries around the hall had been packed with
spectators since morning.

The Emperor entered at a quarter past four; he was
leaning on the shoulder of William of Orange, surnamed
later on The Taciturn.

Beside William of Orange walked Emmanuel Philibert,
accompanied by his squire and page.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 157

On the other side, in front of kings and princes, some
steps to the right of the Emperor, appeared a man of from
thirty to thirty-five years, unknown to every one, and who
seemed as much astonished at finding himself there as the
spectators seemed to be at his presence on the occasion.

It was Odoardo Maraviglia, drawn from his prison, clad
in a magnificent garb, and led here without knowing where
he was going or what was wanted with him.

On the appearance of the Emperor and his august suite,
every one rose.

The Emperor advanced to the front of the platform,
walking with great difficulty, supported' though he was.
It was evident that great courage, and especially great
habitual endurance, were needed to prevent him from
uttering a groan at every step he took.

He sat down, having King Philip on his right and Queen
Mary on his left.

Then on a sign from him, each did the same, except on
the one side, the Prince of Orange, Emmanuel Philibert,
and the two persons forming his suite, and on the other,
Odoardo Maraviglia, who, free, and dressed, as we have
said, in a magnificent costume, was looking at the spectacle
with astonished eyes.

When everybody was seated, the Emperor made a sign
to Councillor Philibert Brussellius to open the proceedings.

Every one was in a state of anxious expectation. The
countenance of Philip alone remained calm and impassive.
His eye seemed to see nothing; it could be hardly guessed
if the blood circulated under that pale and inanimate skin.
The orator explained in a few words that the kings, princes,
grandees of Spain, knights of the Golden Fleece, and the
members of the states of Flanders present in the hall, had
been convoked to assist at the abdication of the Emperor
Charles Y. in favor of his son Don Philip, who, starting
from this moment, succeeded him in his titles of King of
Castile, Leon, Granada, Navarre, Aragon, Naples, Sicily,
Majorca, the isles, Indias, and lands of the Pacific and

158 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Atlantic Oceans, and in those of Archduke of Austria,
Duke of Burgundy, Lothier, Brabant, Luisbourg, Luxem-
burg, and Quelieres; of Count of Flanders, Artois, and
Burgundy; of Palatine of Hainault, Zeland, Holland, Feu-
rette, Haguenau, Namur, and Zutphen; in fine, of those
of Prince of Zuane, Marquis of the Holy Empire, Lord of
Frise, Salmi, Malines, and of the cities and countries
of Utrecht, Overyssel, and Groeningen.

The imperial crown was reserved for Ferdinand, already
King of the Eomans.

At this reservation, a livid pallor overspread the face of
Don Philip, and a slight trembling sent a shiver through
the muscles of his cheeks.

This abdication, at which all held their breath in aston-
ishment, was attributed by the orator to the Emperor's de-
sire to revisit Spain, which he had not seen since twelve
years, and particularly to the sufferings he experienced
from the gout — sufferings increased by the rigorous climate
of Flanders and Germany. He finished by praying, in the
name of the Emperor, the states of Flanders to take in good
part this cession which he made of them to his son Don
Philip.

After concluding the discourse with a peroration in
which he called upon God to have the august Emperor
always under his safeguard and protection, Philibert Brus-
sellius was silent, and resumed his seat.

Then the Emperor rose in his turn; he was pale, and the
perspiration of suffering bedewed his countenance. He
wished to speak, and held in his hand a paper on which
he had written his discourse, in case his memory failed
him.

At the first sign shown by him of his intention to speak,
the confused murmurs which had run through the hall at the
close of the discourse of Councillor Brussellius ceased as if
by enchantment; and weak as the Emperor's voice was, the
moment he opened his mouth, a single word of what he said
was not lost. It is true that as he progressed in his speech,

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 159

and as lie recalled his toils, his dangers, his great deeds, and
his plans, his voice rose, his gestures had a larger sweep, his
eyes became singularly animated, and his accent had some
of those solemn intonations often heard in the last words of
the dying.

"Dear friends," he said,1 "you have just heard the mo-
tives which have led me to decide on resigning the sceptre
and the crown into the hands of my son. Let me add some
words which will make clearer to your eyes my resolution
and my thought. Dear friends, several of those who are
listening to me to-day must remember that it is just forty
years ago on the 5th of January last, since my grandfather,
the Emperor Maximilian, of glorious memory, released me
from his guardianship, and in this very hall, at this very
hour, when I reckoned hardly fifteen years, made me master
of all my rights. In the following year, King Ferdinand
the Catholic, my maternal grandfather, being dead, 1 was
crowned, being then only sixteen years old.

"My mother was alive; but, though living and though
still young, her mind, as you know, was so much affected
by the death of her husband that she did not feel in a con-
dition to rule by herself the kingdoms of her father and
mother, and it became necessary for me, at seventeen years,
to begin my journeys across the seas by setting out in order
to take possession of the "kingdom of Spain. Finally, when
my grandfather, the Emperor Maximilian, died, thirty-six
years ago — I was nineteen then — I ventured to become a
candidate for the imperial crown he had worn, not from
the desire of ruling over a larger number of countries, but
in order to watch more efficaciously over the safety of Ger-
many, of my other realms, and particularly of my beloved
Flanders.

"It was with this object I undertook and accomplished

1 We have made no alteration in the discourse of the Emperor, which we
borrow from a work published in 1830 at Brussels, by the learned conservator
of the archives of the kingdom, M. L. P. G-achard.

160 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

so many journeys; count them, and you will be yourselves
astonished at their number and extent.

"I have passed nine times into upper Germany, six times
into Spain, seven times into Italy, ten times into Belgium,
four times into France, twice into England, and twice into
Africa, which makes in all forty voyages or expeditions.
Besides these forty voyages or expeditions, I have made
journeys to visit islands and provinces brought under my
sway.

"For the latter purpose, I have traversed the Mediter-.
raneaii eight times and the Western Sea three times, which
I am making ready to cross to-day for the last time.

"I pass under silence my journey through France, which
I made from Spain to the Low Countries — a journey ren-
dered necessary, as you know, by grave motives. '

,UI have been forced, on account of these numerous and
long absences, to place at the head of the government of
these provinces, madame, my good sister, the queen here
present. Now I know, and the different orders of the state
know as well as I, how she has acquitted herself of these
functions.

"I have, at the same time I made these journeys, carried
on many wars ; all these enterprises have been undertaken
or accepted against my will; and what afflicts me to-day on
bidding you farewell, my dear friends, is not to be able to
leave you a peace more stable, an assurance of more certain
tranquillity. . . . All these things have not been done, as
you may well think, without protracted toils and great
fatigue; and the heaviness of that fatigue, the burden of
those toils, can be measured by seeing my paleness and
my feebleness. Consequently, let no one believe me so
ignorant of myself as not, when comparing the responsi-
bilities thrust upon me by events with the strength granted
me by God, to have comprehended my insufficiency for the
mission given me.

1 The revolt of the people of Ghent.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 161

' ' But it seems to me that, on account of the mental state
of my mother and the tender age of my son, it would have
been a crime to lay down the burden before the proper hour,
however heavy it might be, which Providence, in giving
me the crown and sceptre, had imposed on my head and
on my arm.

"However, when I last quitted Flanders to go into Ger-
many, I had already the project of accomplishing the pur-
pose which I execute to-day; but, seeing the miserable
condition of affairs, feeling that I had still a remnant of
strength, moved by the disturbances which agitated the
Christian republic, attacked at the same time by the Luth-
erans and the Turks, I believed.it my duty to put off the
time for repose, and to sacrifice to my subjects whatever
remained to me of strength and existence. I was nearly
attaining my aim, however, when the German princes and
the King of France, in violation of their pledged word,
flung me back into the midst of troubles and battles. The
former attacked my person, and almost succeeded in making
me a prisoner in Innspruck ; the latter took possession of
Metz, which belonged to the domain of the Empire. I hast-
ened to besiege it myself with a numerous army. I was
conquered and my army destroyed; but it was not by men,
it was by the elements. To counterbalance the loss of Metz,
I wrested Therouanne and Hesdin from the French. I did
more : I met the King of France at Valenciennes, and forced
him to withdraw, doing all I could at the battle of Kenty, in
despair of not being able to do more.

"But to-day, besides the insufficiency which I have
recognized in myself, the disease with which I am afflicted
is become more acute, and prostrates me.

"Happily, at the very moment God takes from me a
mother, he gives me a son of an age to govern. Now that
my strength fails me and that death is approaching, I do
not care «o prefer the love and passion for sovereignty
to the good and to the repose of my subjects. Instead of
an infirm old man who has already seen descend into the

164 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

And indeed it was a great spectacle given to the world,
that of this sovereign, warrior, and Csesar, who, after forty
years of such power as few men had ever received from
Providence, descended voluntarily from the throne, and,
weary in body and crushed in spirit, proclaimed with a loud
voice the nothingness of human greatness in presence of the
successor to whom he abandoned it.

But a spectacle greater still was to come — the one just
promised by the Emperor — it was that of a man publicly
acknowledging a fault committed, and asking pardon of
him to whom the wrong had been done.

The Emperor understood that this was expected of him;
and, mustering all his strength, he gently pushed his son
away from him.

It was seen that he was going to .speak a second time,
and there was silence.

"Dear friends," resumed the Emperor, "I promised just
now a public reparation to a man I had offended. Be ye
all witnesses, therefore, that after boasting of what I have
done well, I have accused myself of what I have done ill. ' '

Then, turning to the unknown man in the magnificent
costume, whom every one had already remarked —

"Odoardo Maraviglia," he said in a firm voice, "ap-
proach. ' '

The young man to whom this formal invitation was ad-
dressed grew pale, and, tottering, approached Charles V.

"Count," said the Emperor, "I have done you serious
wrong, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, in the person
of your father, who suffered a cruel death in the prisons of
Milan. Often has this act been presented to me veiled by
uncertainty. To-day it appears to me like a spectre clad
in the winding-sheet of remorse. Comte Maraviglia, here,
in the face of, beneath the eyes of, men and of God, at the
moment when about to lay aside the imperial mantle, which
for thirty-six years has weighed upon my shoulders, I hum-
ble myself before you, and pray you not only to grant mo
pardon, but further to ask it for me of the Lord, who will

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 165

perhaps sooner grant it to the petitions of the victim than
to the supplications of the murderer. ' '

Odoardo Maraviglia uttered a cry and fell oh his knees.

"Magnificent Emperor," he said, "it is not without
reason that the world has given you the name of august.
Oh, yes, yes ! I pardon you in the name of my father and
in my own name ! Yes ; God will pardon you. But from
whom shall I seek that pardon, august Emperor, which I no
longer grant myself?"

Then, rising, "Gentlemen," said Maraviglia, turning to-
ward the assembly — "gentlemen, you behold in me a man
who tried to assassinate the Emperor, and whom the Em-
peror has not only pardoned, but of whom he has asked
pardon. ' '

' ' King Don Philip, ' ' he added, bending before him who
from that moment was to be called Philip II., "the mur-
derer places himself in your hands. ' '

' ' My son, ' ' said Charles V. , whose strength was failing
him for the second time, "I recommend to you this man;
let his life be sacred to you!"

And he fell back almost fainting on his armchair.

"Ah, my dear Emmanuel!" said the page of the Duke
of Savoy, who managed to reach the prince on account of
the commotion occasioned by the Emperor's faintness, "how
good you are ! how great ! how I recognize you in what has
passed!"

And before Emmanuel Philibert could prevent it, Leone-
Leona had kissed his hands almost with as much respect as
love.

The ceremony, a moment interrupted by the unforeseen
accident we have related, which was not the least affecting
of the scenes of that solemn day, was about to resume its
course; for, in order that the abdication might be complete,
after Charles V. had given, it was necessary that Philip
should accept.

Philip, who had made a sign of assent to the recommen-
dation of the Emperor, again bowed humbly before him.

164 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

And indeed it was a great spectacle given to the world,
that of this sovereign, warrior, and Csesar, who, after forty
years of such power as few men had ever received from
Providence, descended voluntarily from the throne, and,
weary in body and crushed in spirit, proclaimed with a loud
voice the nothingness of human greatness in presence of the
successor to whom he abandoned it.

But a spectacle greater still was to come — the one just
promised by the Emperor — it was that of a man publicly
acknowledging a fault committed, and asking pardon of
him to whom the wrong had been done.

The Emperor understood that this was expected of him;
and, mustering all his strength, he gently pushed his son
away from him.

It was seen that he was going to .speak a second time,
and there was silence.

"Dear friends," resumed the Emperor, "I promised just
now a public reparation to a man I had offended. Be ye
all witnesses, therefore, that after boasting of what I have
done well, I have accused myself of what I have done ill. ' '

Then, turning to the unknown man in the magnificent
costume, whom every one had already remarked —

"Odoardo Maraviglia," he said in a firm voice, "ap-
proach. ' '

The young man to whom this formal invitation was ad-
dressed grew pale, and, -tottering, approached Charles Y.

"Count," said the Emperor, "I have done you serious
wrong, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, in the person
of your father, who suffered a cruel death in the prisons of
Milan. Often has this act been presented to me veiled by
uncertainty. To-day it appears to me like a spectre clad
in the winding-sheet of remorse. Comte Maraviglia, here,
in the face of, beneath the eyes of, men and of God, at the
moment when about to lay aside the imperial mantle, which
ior thirty-six years has weighed upon my shoulders, I hum-
ble myself before you, and pray you not only to grant mo
pardon, but further to ask it for me of the Lord, who will

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 165

perhaps sooner grant it to the petitions of the victim than
to the supplications of the murderer. ' '

Odoardo Maraviglia uttered a cry and fell oh his knees.

"Magnificent Emperor," he said, "it is not without
reason that the world has given you the name of august.
Oh, yes, yes ! I pardon you in the name of my father and
in my own name ! Yes ; Grod will pardon you. But from
whom shall I seek that pardon, august Emperor, which I no
longer grant myself?"

Then, rising, "Gentlemen," said Maraviglia, turning to-
ward the assembly — "gentlemen, you behold in me a man
who tried to assassinate the Emperor, and whom the Em-
peror has not only pardoned, but of whom he has asked
pardon. ' '

"King Don Philip," he added, bending before him who
from that moment was to be called Philip II., "the mur-
derer places himself in your hands."

' ' My son, ' ' said Charles V. , whose strength was failing
him for the second time, "I recommend to you this man;
let his life be sacred to you!"

And he fell back almost fainting on his armchair.

"Ah, my dear Emmanuel!" said the page of the Duke
of Savoy, who managed to reach the prince on account of
the commotion occasioned by the Emperor's faintness, "how
good you are ! how great ! how I recognize you in what has
passed!"

And before Emmanuel Philibert could prevent it, Leone-
Leona had kissed his hands almost with as much respect as
love.

The ceremony, a moment interrupted by the unforeseen
accident we have related, which was not the least affecting
of the scenes of that solemn day, was about to resume its
course ; for, in order that the abdication might be complete,
after Charles V. had given, it was necessary that Philip
should accept.

Philip, who had made a sign of assent to the recommen-
dation of the Emperor, again bowed humbly before him,

166 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

and in Spanish — a lan<rii;i,u-<' which many of the audience
did not speak, but which almost all understood — he said
in a voice marked for the first time perhaps by a shade of
emotion :

"I have not deserved, most invincible Emperor and my
very good father, I could never have believed that I should
deserve, a paternal love so great that there assuredly has
never been anything like it in the world, never, at least, one
that has produced such effects that it at once covers me with
confusion, when I view the little merit which I have, and
fills me with gratitude and respect in presence of your-great-
ness. But since it has pleased you to treat me so tenderly
and generously as a consequence of your august goodness,
exercise the same goodness, my very dear father, by con-
tinuing in the belief that every effort shall be made on my
part to have your decision in my favor universally approved
and accepted, as I intend governing in such a manner as to
convince the states of the affection I have always entertained
for them."

At the conclusion of these words, he kissed the hand
of his father several times; while the latter, pressing him
to his breast, said —

"I wish you, my son, the most precious blessings of
Heaven and its divine aid."

Then Don Philip kissed the hand of his father for the
last time, wiped a tear from his eyes which probably was
not there, rose, turned toward the states, saluted them, and,
with his hat in his hand — the same attitude in which all
were except the Emperor, who was covered and seated — he
pronounced in French the following words :

"Gentlemen, I would that I could speak better the lan-
guage of this country, in order that you might the better
understand the good affection and favor I bear you. But
as I do not know it as well as would be necessary for my
purpose, I will ask the Bishop of Arras to act in my name."

At the same time, Antoine Perrenot de Grrandville, who
was afterward cardinal, took his stand as interpreter of the

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 167

sentiments of the prince. He eulogized the zeal of Don
Philip for the good of his subjects, and expressed the reso-
lution he had adopted of conforming exactly to the good
and wise instructions the Emperor had given him.

Then Queen Mary, the Emperor's sister, governess for
twenty -six years of the provinces of the Low Countries,
rose in turn, and in a few words resigned into the hands
of her nephew the regency which she had received from
her brother.

After this, Philip swore to maintain the rights and privi-
leges of his subjects, and all the members of the assembly,
princes, grandees of Spain, knights of the Golden Fleece,
deputies of the states either in their own name or in the
name of those they represented, swore obedience to him.

This double oath pronounced, Charles Y. rose, placed
Don Philip on his throne, put the crown on his head, and
said in a loud voice —

"Grant, O Lord, that this crown be not for your elect
a crown of thorns!"

Then he made a step toward the door.

Immediately Don Philip, the Prince of Orange, Emman-
uel Philibert, and all the princes and lords rushed forward
to support the Emperor; but he made a sign to Maraviglia,
who approached, hesitating, for he could not comprehend
what the Emperor wanted with him.

The Emperor wished to have no other support in retiring
than that afforded by Maraviglia, for whose father's death
he was responsible, and who, in retaliation for the bloody
deed, had tried to slay him.

But, as the second arm of the Emperor fell inert by his
side —

' ' Sire, ' ' said Emmanuel Philibert, ' ' allow my page Leone
to be the second support on which your Majesty may lean;
and the honor you do him, I shall consider done to myself. ' '

And he pushed Leone toward the Emperor.

Charles V. looked at the page and recognized him.

"Ah, ah!" he said raising his arm, in order that the

168 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

latter might present his shoulder, "it is the young man
of the diamond. You want to be reconciled to me, then,
fair page?"

Then, looking at his hand, on the little finger of which
only he had, on account of his cruel sufferings, been able
to wear a gold ring —

' ' You lost something by waiting, fair page, ' ' he contin-
ued; "instead of the diamond, you will have only this sim-
ple ring. It is true it has my seal on it, which perhaps may
be a compensation."

And drawing it from his little finger, he put it on the
thumb of Leone, the thumb of that delicate hand being
the only finger large enough to hold it.

Then he left the hall under the eyes and amid the accla-
mations of the assembly — eyes that would have been still
more curious, acclamations that would have been still more
enthusiastic, if the spectators had been able to guess that
this monarch who was descending from a throne, that this
Christian who was marching toward solitude, that this sin-
ner who was bent under the weight of pardon, was advanc-
ing to a tomb in the near future, leaning not only on the
son, but on the daughter of that unhappy Francesco Mara-
viglia, who was done to death by his orders, one gloomy
night in September, in a dungeon of the fortress of Milan.

It was repentance sustained by prayer ; that is to say, if
we are to believe the words of Jesus Christ, the most agree-
able spectacle here below to the eyes of the Lord.

But, on reaching the gate of the solitary street where his
mule awaited him, the Emperor decided that neither of these
young people should take a step further, and he dismissed
Odoardo to his new lord, Don Philip and Leone to his old
master, Emmanuel Philibert.

Then without other guard or suite than the groom who
held the bridle of his peaceful steed, he took his way to his
little house in the park; so that none who saw him riding
along in the darkness even guessed that this humble pilgrim
was the same man whose abdication was at that very hour

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 169

the sole talk of Brussels, and soon to be the talk of the
whole world.

Charles V., on arriving at the gate of this little house,
on whose site the palace of the House of Representatives
stands to-day, found it open.

The groom, therefore, had only to push one of the wings
aside to admit the rider, the mule, and himself.

Then, having on the order of the Emperor brought the
mule as close as possible to the door of the house, in order
that the passage to the parlor might be as short as possible,
he received his master in his arms, and placed him on the
threshold.

The door was open, as the gate had been.

The Emperor paid no attention to this circumstance,
plunged as he was in reflections which it is more easy for
our readers to imagine than for us to relate.

Supported on one side by his staff, which he found in
the same place he had left it, behind the door, on the other
by his servant, he gained the parlor, which was hung with
thick warm tapestry, furnished with thick carpets, and had
a blazing fire in the immense chimney.

The parlor was lighted only by the glare of the flame,
which was coiling greedily around the brands while devour-
ing them.

He stretched himself on the sofa; and, having dismissed
the groom, he recalled each of the phases of that life crowded
with the events of a whole half -century; and what a half-
century! — that in which lived Henry VIII. , Maximilian,
Clement VII., Frangois I., Soliman and Luther. He forced
his memory to recross the road he had travelled, sailing up
the stream of his years, like a traveller who, toward the
close of his life, would sail up the river with flowery and
perfumed banks which he descended in his youth.

The journey was immense, magnificent, marvellous; it
was made through the adoration of courtiers, the acclama-
tions of the world, and the genuflections of the multitudes
who ran to greet this gigantic fortune on its passage.

170 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Suddenly, in the midst of this dream, which was less
that of a man than of a god, one of the brands on the
hearth burst, and one fragment fell in the ashes, while
the other rolled on the carpet, from which a thick smoke
immediately began to rise.

This incident, commonplace though it was, and perhaps
for that very reason, brought the Emperor back to reality.

"Ho!" he called, "hoi who is on service here? Some
one come quick!"

There was no answer.

"Is there nobody in the antechambers?" cried the ex-
Emperor, growing impatient and striking the floor with his
stick.

This second call met with no more reply than the first.

"Let some one come, I say, and fix this fire, and let
him make haste!" said Charles V., now more impatient
than ever.

Same silence.

"Oh!" said he, dragging himself from one piece of fur-
niture to another, in order to reach the chimney, "if Provi-
dence had wished to inspire me with repentance for what
I have done, the lesson has come very soon."

And then he himself, after many painful efforts, suc-
ceeded in regulating the fire with his own hands which
could scarcely hold the tongs from pain.

All, from princes to valets, were busy around the new
king, Don Philip.

The Emperor kicked back the last cinders smoking on
the carpet, when a step was heard in the antechamber, and
a human form appeared framed by the door and outlined
in the shadow.

"At last!" murmured the Emperor.

"Sire," said the new-comer, who saw that Charles Y. was
mistaken as to his identity, "I ask pardon of your Majesty
for thus presenting myself before you; but, having found
all the doors open, and seeing nobody in the antechambers
to announce me, I have ventured to announce myself."

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 171

"Announce yourself, then, sir," replied Charles, who
was quickly learning, as we see, his apprenticeship as a
private individual. "Come, who are you?"

"Sire," replied the unknown, in the most respectful
tone, and bowing to the very ground, "I am Gaspard de
Chatillon, Sire of Coligny, Admiral of France, and envoy
extraordinary from his Majesty King Henri II. ' '

"Monsieur envoy extraordinary of his Majesty King
Henri II.," said Charles, smiling with a certain bitterness,
"you have mistaken the door; it is no longer with me that
you have business, it is with King Philip II. , my successor
to the throne of Naples since nine months, and to the throne
of Spain and the Indias since twenty minutes. ' '

"Sire," said Coligny, in the same respectful tone and
bowing a second time, "whatever change may have occurred
in the fortunes of Don Philip since nine months or since
twenty minutes, you are always for me the elect of Ger-
many, the very great, very holy, and very august Emperor
Charles Y. ; and as it is to your Majesty that the letter of
my sovereign is addressed, permit me to place it in your
Majesty's hands."

"In that case, monsieur, help me to light these tapers,"
said Charles V., "for the accession of my son Don Philip
has taken away from me even my last lackey."

And the Emperor, aided by the admiral, lighted the
tapers in the candelabra, in order to be able to read the
letter addressed to him by Henri II., and perhaps also,
moved by some curiosity to see the man who for three
years had been such a doughty adversary of his.

Gaspard de Chatillon, Sire of Coligny, was, at the period
we have reached, a man of thirty- eight or thirty-nine years,
with piercing eyes, a martial presence, and a tall and well-
built figure. Being of a loyal and intrepid heart, he was
held in great esteem by Frangois I. and Henri II., as he
was also to be by Frangois II.

Immense as was the massacre of the 24th of August,
1572, there was needed, to render the miserable assassi-

(8)— Vol. 20

172 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

nation of such a man possible, the hereditary hatred of
Henri, Due de Cruise, joined to the hypocrisy of Catherine
de Medicis and the weakness of Charles IX.

This hatred, which was beginning .to separate the illus-
trious admiral from his old friend Frangois de Cruise at the
very time we are introducing him to the reader, had its
birth on the battlefield of Renty. In their youth, these
two great captains, whose genius united would have wrought
such marvels, had been intimate friends; there were no la-
bors, no pleasures, no exercises which they did not share.
In their studies of antiquity, they proposed as models for
themselves not only the men who have left fine examples
of courage, but also those who have left fine examples of
fraternity.

This mutual affection went so far that "they wore,"
says Brantome, ''the same ornaments and the same livery."
When King Henri II. sent a messenger to Charles V., and
this messenger was not the Connetable de Montmorency, it
could only be the Amiral de Coligny or the Due de Cruise.

The Emperor regarded the admiral with a certain admi-
ration. It was impossible, we are assured by contemporary
historians, to see any man who gave one a better idea of a
great captain.

But, at this very same moment, it occurred to Charles
that Coligny had been sent to Brussels, not precisely to give
him the letter he held in his hand, but rather to report to
the court of France what had taken place in the palace of
Brussels on that famous day of the 25th of October, 1555.
So the first question the Emperor put to Coligny, when a
long gaze at the countenance of Coligny had allowed him
to satisfy his curiosity, was the following:

"When, did you arrive, M. 1' Amiral?"

"This morning, sire," replied Coligny.

"And you bring me — "

"This letter from his Majesty King Henri II."

And he presented the letter to the Emperor.

The Emperor took it, and made some vain attempts to

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 178

break the seal, to such a degree were his hands tortured
and twisted by the gout.

Then the admiral offered to render him this service.

Charles V. handed him the letter, laughing.

"Am I not, in truth, M. 1'Amiral," he said, "a nice
cavalier for running and breaking a lance — I who can no
longer even break a seal?"

The admiral returned the letter opened to Charles Y.

"No, no," said the Emperor, "read it yourself; my sight
is as bad as my hand. I think, then, you will acknowledge
that I have done well to resign everything, force and power,
into the hands of one younger and more adroit. ' '

The Emperor emphasized the last word.

The admiral did not answer, but began reading the letter.

During the reading, Charles Y. , who pretended to see no
longer, was devouring Coligny with his eagle glance.

The message was quite simple — a letter announcing to the
Emperor the final completion of the truce; the preliminaries
had been arranged five or six months before.

The letter read, Coligny took from his jerkin the parch-
ments signed by the plenipotentiaries, and sealed with the
royal seal of France.

It was the exchange made for the corresponding papers
sent previously by Charles Y. to Henri II. , signed by the
Spanish, German and English plenipotentiaries, and sealed
with the seal of the Empire.

The Emperor cast his eyes over these political contracts;
and as if he divined that a year would hardly pass before
they were broken, he threw them on a large table covered
with a black cloth, and took the admiral's arm to help him
to his seat.

"M. 1'Amiral," said he, "is it not a miracle of Provi-
dence that I, weak and retired from the world, should
to-day be supported by an arm that was once very nearly
overturning me at the height of my power. ' '

"Oh, sire!" replied the admiral, "only one man could
have overturned Charles Y., and that was Charles Y. him-

174 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

self; and if it has been the lot of us poor pygmies to
struggle against a giant, it was because God wished in a
surpassing manner to prove to the world our weakness
and your power."

Charles V. smiled. It was evident the compliment did
not displease him coming from a man like the admiral.

However, sitting down and making a sign to Coligny to
be seated also — •

"Enough," he said, "enough, admiral. I am no longer
emperor, I am no longer king, I am no longer prince; I
must have nothing to do now with flattery. Let us change
the conversation. How is my brother Henri ?"

"Wonderfully well, sire," replied Coligny, obeying the
invitation to be seated when repeated for the third time.

"Ah, how glad I am of that!" said Charles; "so glad
that my heart dances with joy, and not without cause, for
I hold it great honor to have sprung, on the maternal side,
from that lily that bears and supports the most celebrated
crown in the world. But, ' ' he continued, affecting to lead
back the conversation to the commonplaces of life, ' ' I have
been sometimes told nevertheless that this well-beloved
brother of mine was getting gray; and yet it seems to me
not three days ago since he was in Spain, a youngster with-
out a hair on his face. Ah, twenty years, however, have
slipped by since then!"

And Charles Y. heaved a sigh, as the mere fact of these
words escaping his lips opened up the vast horizon of the
past.

"It is true, sire," returned Coligny, in reply to the
question of the Emperor, "that his Majesty King Henri
is beginning to count gray hairs, but by twos and threes
at the most. Now, are not many people, younger than
he is, grayheaded?"

"Oh, what you say is quite true!" replied the Emperor.
"And now, as I have questioned you on the gray hairs of
my brother Henri, I must tell you the history of my own.
I was almost the same age, thirty-six or thirty-seven

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 175

scarcely; it was on my return from Goulette and arrival
in Naples. You know the beauty of that admirable city
of Naples, M. 1'Amiral, and the beauty and grace of the
dames who dwell there. ' '

Coligny bowed smiling.

' ' I am a man, ' ' continued Charles ; li I wished to merit
their favor like others. So, on the day of my arrival, I
summoned my barber to curl and perfume me. This man
presented me a glass, that I might follow the operations as
he went along. It was long since I had looked at myself;
I had been too busy making war on the Turks, the allies of
my good brother FranQois I. Suddenly I cried out, 'I say,
barber, what is that, my friend?' 'Sire,' he answered, 'it
is two or three white hairs. ' Now, I must tell you the flat-
terer lied: it was not two or three, but, on the contrary, a
dozen. 'Quick! quick! master barber,' I jerked out, 'pull
them out; don't leave a single one.' He did so; but do
you know what happened? Some time after, on looking
in the glass again, I found that for every one he had
plucked out, ten had returned. So that, if I had plucked
these out, too, in less than a year I should have been as
white as a swan. Tell my brother Henri, M. 1'Amiral, to
guard his three white hairs preciously, and not allow them
to be plucked out, even by the fair hands of Madame de
Yalentinois. "

"I will not fail, sire," replied Coligny, laughing.

"And talking of Madame de Valentinois, " continued
Charles, showing by the transition that he was not a stran-
ger to the scandals of the court of Henri II., "what news
have you, M. 1'Amiral, of your dear uncle, the great
constable?"

"Excellent," replied the admiral, "although his head
is quite white."

"Yes," said Charles, "his head is white; but he is like
the leeks, with a white head and the rest of the body green.
And except this was the case, he would not be such a favor-
ite as he is with the great ladies of the court. But, ah, by

176 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

the way— for I do not like letting you go without having
news of everybody — how is the daughter of our old friend
Fran9ois I.?"

And Charles emphasized with a smile these three words
our old friend.

"Does your Majesty mean Madame Marguerite of
France?"

"She is still called the fourth Grace, the tenth Muse,
is she not?"

' ' Always, sire ; and she deserves the title more and more
every day, by the protection she grants to our great geniuses,
such as MM. de 1'Hopital, Eonsard and Dorat. "

"Eh!" said Charles V., "it looks as if our brother Henri
II. was jealous of his royal neighbors, and was determined
to keep this beautiful pearl for himself alone : I hear noth-
ing said of the marriage of Madame Marguerite, and she
must be" (Charles appeared to be making a calculation)
"very nearly thirty- two. "

"Yes, sire, but she hardly looks twenty; she is fresher
and lovelier every day!"

"It is the privilege of roses to bud and bloom anew
every spring," returned Charles. "But, speaking of lords
and roses, tell me, my dear Coligny, tell me how our young
Queen of Scotland is getting along at the court of France ?
Could I not help you in arranging matters with my daugh-
ter-in-law of England?"

"Oh, sire, there is no hurry," replied Coligny; "and
your Majesty, who knows so well the age of our princesses,
must be aware that the Queen of Scotland is hardly thirteen
years old. Now she is — I do not think I am revealing a
secret in confiding this to your Majesty — she is to wed the
Dauphin Fra^ois, and the marriage cannot take place for
a year or two. ' '

"Stay a moment; stay a moment, my dear admiral. I
am trying to recall something," said Charles Y. "I think
there is somewhere in my memory a reminiscence which
may serve as a warning to my brother Henri II., although

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 177

it is based merely on cabalistic science. Ah! I have it.
But first, can you tell me what has become of a young lord
named Gabriel de Lorges, Comte de Montgommery ?"

' ' Certainly : he is at the court of the king, with whom he
is a great favorite, and is a captain in the Scotch Gruard. ' '

u A great favorite ! indeed!" said Charles, pensively.

"Have you anything to say against this young lord?"
asked Coligny, respectfully.

"No. But I have a story to tell you; listen."

"I am listening, sire."

"When I was crossing France, with the permission of
my brother FranQois L, in order to chastise the revolt of my
well-beloved fellow-countrymen and subjects of Ghent, the
King of France paid me — as you may remember, although
your beard had hardly sprouted at the time — the King of
France paid me all kinds of honor. He sent the dauphin
with a multitude of young lords and pages to meet me at
Fontainebleau. It is as well to tell you, my dear admiral,
that I had no fancy for a journey through France, and,
but for stern necessity, would have preferred another route.
Everything had been done to make me distrust the loyalty
of King Frangois I. , and I do not mind confessing that I
myself sometimes was afraid (very groundlessly, as the
event proved) that my brother of France might take advan-
tage of the occasion and retaliate for the treaty of Madrid.
I had brought with me, then (just as if human science could
outweigh the purposes of Grod), a very able man, a renowned
astrologer, who, by the inspection of the faces of people,
judged at once whether a man venturing among such people
was in danger of his life or liberty. ' '

The admiral smiled.

' ' Wait, and you shall see. We were then on the road
from Orleans to Fontainebleau, when suddenly we saw
a great cortege approach us. It was, as I told you, the
Dauphin of France with a crowd of lords and pages.
At first, in the distance, seeing only the dust which en-
veloped the horses, we believed it was a troop of men- at-

178 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

arms, and we halted. But soon, through the gray cloud
formed by this dust, we saw satin and velvet shining, and
gold sparkling. Evidently this troop, so far from being
hostile, was an escort of honor. We proceeded, therefore,
on our way, full of confidence in the word of King Frangois
I. The cavalcades soon met, and the dauphin, advancing,
complimented me in the name of his father. The compli-
ment was so gracious and so calculated to set at rest — oh !
not my suspicions. God, to whom I am about to conse-
crate my life, is my witness that never for a moment did I
suspect my good brother! — the compliment, I repeat, was
so gracious that I wished to embrace the young prince on
the spot. Now, while I was holding him in my arms, for,
I believe, a good minute, the two troops mingled together;
and the young lords and pages in the suite of the dauphin,
curious to " observe me, doubtless because of some little
noise that I have made in the world, clustered around me,
approaching as near as they could. Then I noticed that
my astrologer, an Italian from Milan, named Angelo Poli-
castro, had made his way through them on horseback, and
taken a position on my left. This seemed to me audacious
— the notion of such a man mingling with such a fine and
rich nobility."

'• 'Oh, Signor Angelo, ' I said, 'what are you doing there ?'

" 'Sire,' he replied, 'I am in my place.'

' ' ' No matter ! keep a little further back, Signor Angelo. '

" 'I cannot, I must not, my august lord,' he answered.

"Thereupon I suspected something had occurred likely
to disturb the harmony of my journey; so, fearing he might
obey my first injunction —

1 'Eemain, then, Signor Angelo,' I said; 'remain, since
you are here with a good intention. Only when we enter
the castle, you will tell me why you have taken up such
a position, will you not?'

kt 'Oh, sire, I shall not fail, the thing being my duty;
but turn your head to the left, and observe that blond
young man who is near me, and who wears the hair long. '

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 179

"I looked from the corner of my eye; the young man
was the more remarkable, and it was the easier singling
him out that he looked like a foreigner, an Englishman,
and was the only one who wore his hair long.

" 'Well, I see him,' I answered.

" 'That is enough,' said the astrologer — 'for the mo-
ment, at least ; later on I shall speak to your Majesty. '

"In truth, I had hardly entered the castle and withdrawn
to my apartments to change my toilet, when Signor Angelo
followed me.

" 'Well,' I asked, 'what have you to tell me about this
young man?'

" 'Have you noticed, sire, the furrow this young man
has between the eyebrows, although so young ?'

"'No, faith,' I replied; 'not having examined him so
nearly as you. '

' ' ' Well, that furrow is what we men of the cabala call
the line of death. Sire, that young man will kill a king!'

" 'A king or an emperor?' I asked.

" 'I cannot say, sire; but he will strike a head wearing
a crown. '

' ' ' Ah, ah ! you have no means of knowing if this head
will be mine ? '

" 'Yes, sire; but for this I shall need a lock of his
hair. '

" 'Good! a lock of his hair — how will you get it?'

" 'I do not know, but I must have it.'

"I began to reflect. At this moment the gardener's
daughter entered, carrying a basket of flowers which she
came to arrange in the vases on the mantelpiece and in
those on the consoles. When she had finished, I took her
by the hand, and drew her toward me. Then, taking two
new gold maximilians from my pocket, I gave them to her.
She thanked me.

" 'And new,' I said, kissing her on the forehead, 'would
you like to earn ten times as many ?'

She cast down her eyes and blushed.

180 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

" 'Oh!' said I to her, " 'it is not that — there is no ques-
tion of that — '

" 'Of what, then, lord Emperor?' she asked.

" 'Come here,' I said, leading her to the window, and
pointing to the blond young man who was amusing himself
running the quintaine in the court; 'you see that young
lord ?'

" 'Yes, I see him.'

tk l What do you think of him ?'

' ' ' He is very handsome and splendidly dressed. '

" 'Well, bring me a lock of his hair to-morrow morning,
and, instead of two gold Maximilians, you shall have
twenty!'

' 'But how can I get the hair of this young man ?' she
asked, regarding me naively.

" 'Oh! upon my word, my fair girl, I have nothing to
do with that; it is for you to find the way. All that I can
do is to give you a Bible. '

'"A Bible?'

"Yes; that you may see what means Delilah adopted to
cut the hair of Samson. '

' ' The young girl blushed again, but it seemed as if the
information was sufficient; for she went away at once, pen-
sive and smiling, and the next day she returned, with a lock
of hair gleaming like gold. Ah ! the most simple woman is
more cunning than the craftiest of us all, M. 1'Amiral!"

"Does your Majesty not intend finishing the story ?"

"Oh, certainly. I sent the lock of hair to Signer An-
gelo, who made his cabalistic experiments on it, and said
it was not I, but a prince bearing the fleur-de-lis in his coat
of arms, whom the horoscope threatened. Well, my dear
Coligny, the blond young man with the line of death be-
tween the eyebrows, the Seigneur de Lorges, Comte de
Montgommery, captain in the Scotch Guard of my brother
Henri—"

"What ! Your Majesty suspects— ?' '

"Oh," said Charles, rising to indicate that the audience

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 181

was over, "I suspect nothing. God forbid! I only repeat
to you, word for word, as a thing that might be useful to
my brother Henri, the horoscope of Signor Angelo Poli-
castro; and I advise his Majesty to pay good attention to
this line that happens to be between the two eyebrows
of his captain of the Scotch Guard, which is called the
line of death, reminding him that it specially threatens
a prince bearing the fleur-de-lis in his coat of arms."

"Sire," said Coligny, "his Majesty shall be informed of
the friendly warning you have given him. ' '

"And that you may not forget it, my dear Coligny, ac-
cept this," said Charles, throwing round the neck of the
ambassador the magnificent gold chain he was himself wear-
ing, from which hung that diamond star called the star of
the west, in honor of the western possessions of the kings
of Spain.

Coligny wished to receive the gift on his knees; but
Charles would not allow this mark of respect, and, holding
him in his arms, he kissed him on both cheeks.

At the door, Coligny encountered Emmanuel Philibert,
who, as soon as the ceremony was over, or rather, a little
before, left everything to offer his homage at the feet of that
Emperor who was now greater in his eyes than before he
abdicated his greatness.

The two captains saluted each other courteously; both
had met on the field of battle, and their mutual esteem was
on a level with their courage ; that is to say, lofty and grand.

"Your Majesty," said Coligny, "has nothing else to say
to me for the king my master ?"

"No, nothing." Then, looking at Emmanuel Philibert,
he smiled.

"Unless, my dear admiral, that, if our health permits
us, we devote some attention to the task of finding a hus-
band for Madame Marguerite of France. ' '

Then, leaning on the arm of Emmanuel —

"Come, my dear Emmanuel," he said, returning to the
parlor, "it seems an age since I saw you!"

182 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

XV

AFTER THE ABDICATION

FOR those of our readers who wish to see the issue of
every occurrence and the philosophy of every event,
we have decided to write the present chapter, which
perhaps may interfere for a moment with the march of our
action, but which will allow the eye, resting for a while on
the Emperor Charles, to follow the fortunes of that illus-
trious sovereign, concealed, though they were, by the ob-
scurity of his new life from the day of his abdication to that
of his death; that is to say, from the 25th of October, 1555,
to the 21st of September, 1558.

After the conqueror of Frangois I. has been laid in the
sepulchre, whither his rival has preceded him by nine years,
we shall return to the living, to combats and festivals, to
scenes in which love and hatred play their several parts;
in fine, to all those immense and confused murmurs which
cradle the dead, waiting in the depths of their tombs for the
eternal resurrection.

The different political affairs which Charles V. had to
regulate in the Low Countries, and the abdication of the
Empire in favor of his brother Ferdinand — an abdication
which followed that of his hereditary states in favor of his
son Don Philip — still kept him nearly a year in Brussels;
so that it was only in the first days of September, 1556, that
he could quit that city and set out for Grhent, escorted by
all the grandees, nobles, ambassadors, magistrates, captains,
and officers in Belgium.

King Philip had expressly desired to conduct his father
to the place of embarkation; that is to say, to Flessingen,

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 183

which, the Emperor reached in his litter, accompanied by
the two queens, his sisters, with their ladies, King Philip
with his court, and Emmanuel Philibert with his two in-
separable companions, Leone and Scianca-Ferro.

The adieus were long and sad : not only was a man who
had held the world clasped in his two arms separating from
his sisters, from his son, from a grateful and devoted
nephew, but he was, moreover, separating from the world,
from life almost, his intention being to retire into a monas-
tery immediately on his arrival in Spain.

Consequently, the ex- emperor wished to have these
adieus over on the eve of his departure, saying that if
they were to take place on the morrow, at the moment he
was going to embark, he would never have the courage
to set his foot on board the vessel.

The first person Charles Y. took leave of — because, per-
haps, in his heart he loved him least — was Don Philip.
After receiving his father's kiss, the King of Spain knelt
and asked his blessing.

Charles Y. gave it to him with that majesty which never
deserted him under any circumstances, and recommended
him to keep peace with the Allied Powers, particularly with
France, if it were possible.

Don Philip promised his father to comply with his
wishes, expressing a doubt, however, as to the possibility
of peace with France, but asseverating that he would never-
theless keep, on his side, the truce faithfully, as long as his
cousin Henri II. did not break it.

After this Charles embraced Emmanuel Philibert, hold-
ing him a long time in his arms, as if he could not bring
himself to separate from him.

Finally, calling Don Philip, with tears in his eyes and in
his voice, he said:

' ' My dear son, I have given you many things — I have
given you Naples, Flanders, the two Indias : for your sake,
indeed, I have despoiled myself of all I possessed. But
keep this well in your mind: neither Naples and its

184 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

palaces, nor the Low Countries and their commerce, nor
the two Indias and their mines of gold, silver, and precious
stones are worth the treasure I give you in bequeathing to
you your cousin Emmanuel Philibert — a man equally prompt
to plan and execute, a good statesman, and a great captain.
I recommend you to treat him, therefore, not as a subject,
but as a brother ; and even then he will be scarcely treated
by you according to his merits. ' '

Emmanuel Philibert tried to kiss the knees of his uncle,
but the latter held him in his arms; then, gently pushing
him from his arms into those of Don Philip —

"Go," he said; "go! it is a shame for men to groan and
weep thus on account of a short separation in this world !
Let us manage, by good deeds and the virtues of a Christian
life, to make sure of our union in a happier world; that is
the essential point!"

And, making a sign with his hand to the two young men
to depart, he remained with his back turned until they were
outside of the apartment, and then went to take leave of his
sisters.

Don Philip and Emmanuel Philibert mounted their
horses and started at once for Brussels.

As to the ex- emperor, he embarked the next day, 10th
of September, 1556, on a vessel "truly royal in size and
adornment, ' ' says Gregorio Leti, historian of Charles V. ;
but it was hardly outside the harbor when it was saluted
by an English ship. This ship carried the Earl of Arundel,
sent to her father-in-law by Queen Mary, to beg him not to
pass so near the coasts of Great Britain without paying her
a visit.

But at this invitation Charles merely shrugged his
shoulders, and, in a tone not wholly free from bitterness,
he said —

" Eh ! what pleasure could so great a queen take in see-
ing herself the daughter-in-law of a private gentlemen ?"

In spite of this reply, the Earl of Arundel persisted,
with so many courteous supplications and respectful prayers

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 185

that Charles Y. could no longer defend himself from such
importunity, and at last said*-

' ' My lord, everything will depend on the winds. ' '

The two queens had embarked with their brother. Sixty
ships escorted the imperial vessel ; and, seeing that, although
the winds were far from being unfavorable, the Emperor
passed Yarmouth, London, and Portsmouth without stop-
ping, the Earl of Arundel insisted no further. He placed
himself respectfully in the suite of the imperial vessel, and
followed it into Loredo, a port of Biscay, where Charles was
received by the Grand Constable of Castile.

But he had no sooner touched that land of Spain, over
which he had so gloriously reigned, than he knelt down,
before listening to a word of the discourse the grand con-
stable had prepared; and, kissing the soil of that realm
which had become now a kind of second birthplace, he said:

"I salute thee with all reverence, oh common mother!
and, as I came forth from the womb of my mother to re-
ceive so many treasures, I wish now also to return naked
into thy bosom, my very dear mother! And if it was then
a duty of nature, it is to-day an effect of grace upon my
will."

He had not finished this prayer, when the wind began
to swell, and such a violent tempest arose that all the fleet
which had accompanied him perished in the harbor, not ex-
cepting even the imperial vessel, which was laden with treas-
ure and with the magnificent gifts brought by the Emperor
from Belgium and Germany as gifts to the churches of Spain
— which gave occasion to a saying by one of the personages
of the suite of Charles Y. that the vessel, foreseeing that
never again would such glory ennoble it, had sunk into the
sea in order to show at once its respect, regret, and sorrow.

It was just as well, perhaps, that inanimate things should
give such proofs of respect, regret, and sorrow to Charles
Y., for men were very cold in presence of his changed for-
tunes. At Burgos, for example, the Emperor crossed the
city without any deputation meeting him, and without

186 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

the citizens even giving themselves the trouble to run to
their doors to look at him passing. Which seeing, the Em-
peror shook his head, murmuring —

"In truth, the inhabitants of Burgos must have been
listening to me when I said at Loredo that I was returning
naked into Spain!"

The same day, however, a noble lord named Don Bar-
tolomeo Miranda having come to visit him, and having said
to him —

"It is to-day exactly a year, sire, since your Imperial
Majesty abandoned the world to devote yourself entirely to
the service of God — ' '

"Yes," said Charles; "and it is to-day exactly a year
since I have repented of it!"

Charles Y. recalled the sad and solitary evening of his
abdication when the coals fell upon the carpet, and he had
no one to help in regulating the fire but Admiral Coligny.

From Burgos the Emperor travelled to Yalladolid, which
was then the capital of Spain. Half an hour from the city,
he met a procession. It consisted of nobles and lords, led
by his grandson Don Carlos, then eleven years old.

The child managed his steed admirably, and rode on the
left of the Emperor's litter. It was the first time he saw his
grandfather, and the latter regarded him with an earnestness
that would have disconcerted any one but the young prince.
Don Carlos did not even lower his eyes, contenting himself
with taking off his cap respectfully every time the Em-
peror's eyes were fixed upon him. He replaced it on his
head when Charles turned away his eyes.

As a consequence, the Emperor no sooner entered his
apartments than he sent for him, in order to have a nearer
view of him, and to converse with him.

The boy presented himself, respectful in manner, but
without any embarrassment.

"And so it was you, my grandson, who came to meet
me," said Charles.

"It was my duty," replied the boy, "as I am your sub-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 187

ject in a twofold manner; for you are my grandfather and
my emperor. ' '

"Ah, indeed!" exclaimed Charles, astonished at finding
so much coolness in a child of such tender years.

"Besides, even if it was not my duty to meet your Im-
perial Majesty, I should have done so through curiosity."

"And why so?"

' l Because I have often heard that you were an illustrious
emperor, and that you have done great things. ' '

"Ah, truly!" said Charles Y., who was amused by the
strange disposition of the child; "and would you like me
to relate those great things to you ?"

"It would be a keen pleasure and an immense honor for
me, ' ' replied the young prince.

"Well, sit down there."

"With the permission of your Majesty, I shall listen
standing, ' ' said the child.

Then Charles V. related all his wars with Frangois I.,
the Turks and the Protestants.

Don Carlos listened with the greatest attention, and when
his grandfather had finished, showing that the recital was no
novelty for him, he exclaimed —

' ' Oh, yes, that is how it all happened. ' '

"But," returned the Emperor, "you do not, my fair
grandson, tell me what you think of my adventures, or
whether you believe I have conducted myself as a brave
man. ' '

"Oh!" said the young prince, "I am well enough satis-
fied with what you have done ; there is one thing, though,
I cannot pardon you."

"Upon my word!" said the astonished Emperor; "and,
pray, what is it ? "

"Your flight from Innspruck one night, half naked,
before Duke Maurice."

' ' But I could not help it, I swear to you, ' ' answered the
Emperor, laughing. "He surprised me, and I had nothing
to protect me but the house I was living in. ' '

188 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

' ' Still, I would not have fled, ' ' said Don Carlos.

"What! you would not have fled?"

"No."

"But it was necessary to fly, since I had no means of
resistance. ' '

' ' I would not have fled, ' ' repeated the young prince.

4 ' Should I have allowed myself to be taken, then ? That
would have been a great imprudence, for which I should
have been blamed still more. ' '

"No matter! I would not have fled," repeated the child
for the third time.

"Tell me, then, what- you would have done on such an
occasion; and, to help you to an answer, what would you
do at the present moment if I set thirty pages, say, at your
heels?"

"I would not fly," the child contented himself with
answering.

The Emperor frowned, and, summoning the governor of
the young prince —

"Sir," he said, "take my grandson with you: I congrat-
ulate you on the education you are giving him ; if he con-
tinues, he will be the greatest warrior of our family ! ' '

The same evening, he said to Queen Eleonore, his sister,
whom he was leaving at Yalladolid:

"I fear, sister, Don Philip is not fortunate in his son
Don Carlos; his manners and disposition at such an early
age do not please me. I cannot imagine what he is likely
to be when he is twenty-five. Study the words and actions
of this child, then, and when you write to me, tell me sin-
cerely what you think on the subject ' '

Two days afterward Charles entered Palencia, and on the
ensuing day Queen Eleonore wrote:

"My brother, if the manners of Don Carlos have dis-
pleased you after seeing him only on one day, they have
much more displeased me after seeing him on three. ' '

This little man, who would not have fled from Inns-
pruck, was the same Don Carlos who was put to death by

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 189

his father, Philip II., twelve years later, under the pretext
that he conspired with the rebels in the Low Countries.

At Yalladolid the Emperor had dismissed his entire
court, with the exception of twelve domestics and twelve
horses, reserving for his own use only a few rare and pre-
cious articles of furniture, and distributing all the rest
among the gentlemen who had accompanied him; then
he had bade farewell to the two queens, and set out for
Palencia.

Palencia was eighteen miles from the monastery of Saint-
Just, belonging to the order of Hieronimites, which the Em-
peror had selected for his retreat, and where he had sent,
during the preceding year, an architect to build six rooms
for him on the ground floor, four exactly like the cells of
the monks, and two a little bigger. The artist was also to
lay out a garden, on a plan designed by Charles himself.

This garden was the charming feature of the imperial
retreat; it was watered on two sides by a little rivulet,
limpid and murmuring, and planted with orange, lemon
and cedar trees, whose branches shaded and perfumed the
windows of the illustrious recluse.

In 1542 he had visited this same monastery of Saint- Just,
and, on leaving, said —

' 4 A real place of retreat for a second Diocletian. ' '

The Emperor took possession of his apartments in the
monastery of Saint- Just on the 24th of February, 1557. It
was the anniversary of his birthj and that day had always
been a fortunate day for him.

"I wish," he said, on crossing the threshold, "to be born
again for heaven on the same day on which I was born for
earth."

Out of the twelve horses he had kept, he sent away
eleven; he used the one he retained for riding occasionally
in the delicious valley of Serandilla, distant only a mile, and
which is called the Paradise of Estremadura.

Starting from that moment, he kept up little communica-
tion with the world, receiving only rare visits from his old

190 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

courtiers, and, once or twice a year, letters from King Philip,
the Emperor Ferdinand, and the two queens, his sisters; his
only distraction was the rides we have mentioned, the din-
ners he gave now and then to the gentlemen who visited
him and whom he retained until evening, saying, "My
friends, remain with me and live the religious life," and
the pleasure he took in attending to the little birds of
every species he kept in cages.

This life lasted a year; but, at the end of the year, it
seemed still too worldly for the august solitary, and on the
anniversary of his birth, the day, also, it will be remem-
bered, of his entrance into the monastery, he said to the
Archbishop of Toledo, who had come to pay him a visit
of ceremony:

"My lord, I have lived fifty- seven years for the world,
and a year for my intimate friends and servants in this
lonely spot; now I wish to give to the Lord the few
months I have still to live. ' ' And, in consequence, while
thanking the prelate for his visit, he begged him not to take
the trouble of coming again, except he called him for his
soul's sake.

In fact, from the 25th of February, 1558, the Emperor
lived almost as austerely. as the monks, eating with them,
inflicting the discipline on himself, going regularly to the
services, and not allowing himself any other distraction than
that of having Masses said for the innumerable quantity of
soldiers, sailors, officers and captains who had died in his
service in the different battles waged by himself or by
his orders in the four quarters of the globe.

He had special Masses said in the name of the generals,
councillors, ambassadors and ministers — he had a perfectly
exact register of the anniversary of their deaths — at private
altars erected for the purpose ; so that it might be said that,
just as he had formerly placed his glory in reigning over the
living, he now placed it in reigning over the dead.

At last, growing tired, toward the beginning of the July
of this same year, 1558, of assisting at the funerals of others,

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 191

Charles Y. resolved to assist at his own. However, it took
some time to accustom him to this rather odd idea; he was
afraid he would be taxed with pride and singularity in giv-
ing way to this desire ; but at last it became irresistible, and
he disclosed his intention to a monk of the same monastery,
named Father John Regola.

It was with trembling that Charles ventured on this con-
fidence, fearing the monk might throw some obstacle in the
way of the execution of his plan ; but the monk, on the con-
trary, to the great joy of the Emperor, answered that, al-
though it would be an extraordinary and unprecedented
act, he saw no harm in it, and considered it even pious
and exemplary.

Nevertheless, this approval by a simple monk did not
seem to the Emperor sufficient in such a grave circum-
stance; then Father Eegola offered to take the opinion of
the Archbishop of Toledo.

Charles thought the advice good, and the monk, being
appointed ambassador to the archbishop, set out on a mule,
and with an escort, to get the desired permission.

Never in the days of Charles V.'s power had the re-
turn of a messenger, however important the message, been
awaited with such impatience as was this one.

At last, at the end of a fortnight, the monk reappeared;
the reply was favorable; the archbishop regarded the desire
of the Emperor as very holy and very Christian.

On the next day, which was a genuine festival, prepara-
tions were made to render the funeral ceremony worthy of
the great Emperor who was about to be buried alive.

The first thing undertaken was the construction of a
inagnificent mausoleum in the centre of the church; Father
Vargas, who was an engineer and sculptor, made a design
that was satisfactory to the Emperor, except in some details
which he retouched.

The design being approved, master joiners and painters
were summoned from Palencia, who for five weeks em-
ployed twenty men each day in building this mausoleum.

192 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

At the end of the five weeks, thanks to the activity inspired
by the presence of the Emperor, the mausoleum was fin-
ished. It was forty feet long, thirty broad and fifty high;
around it were galleries mounted by several staircases;
there might be seen a series of pictures representing the
most illustrious emperors of the House of Austria, and
the principal battles of Charles Y. himself. In fine, on
the top was laid the bier, without a lid, having on its
left Fame, and on its right Immortality.

Everything being completed, the morning of the 24th
of August was fixed for this fictitious funeral.

At five o'clock, just an hour and a half after sunrise,
four hundred immense tapers painted black were placed,
lighted, on the sarcophagus, around which the domestics
of the Emperor were arranged, dressed in mourning, bare-
headed, each with a torch in his hand. At seven, Charles
entered, clad in a long mourning robe, having on his right
and left a monk garbed like himself. He sat down on a
seat prepared for him in front of the altar, having also
a torch in his hand. There, without a movement, his torch
resting on the ground, he listened, living, to all the chants
sung for the departed, from the Requiem to the Requiescat,
while six monks of different orders said six Low Masses
at the side altars of the church.

Then, at a given moment, he went, escorted by two
monks, and bowed before the high altar. Kneeling at
the feet of the prior, he said:

"I ask and supplicate Thee, O arbiter and sovereign of
our life and of our death, that, just as the priest takes from
my hands with his this torch which I offer him in all humil-
ity, Thou mayest deign to receive* my soul, which I com-
mend to Thy divine clemency, and take it, when it is Thy
will, into the bosom of Thy infinite goodness and mercy!"

Then the prior placed the taper in a silver chandelier
of great size, which the counterfeit departed had presented
to the monastery for this grand occasion.

After this Charles rose, and, always accompanied by the

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 193

two monks, who followed him as his shadow, he went and
took his seat.

The Mass over, the Emperor judged that there remained
something for him to do, and that they had forgotten the
most important part of the ceremony: he then had a flag-
stone in the choir raised, and ordered a black velvet cover-
ing to be spread over the bottom of the ditch which had
been excavated in accordance with his wishes, and a pillow
to be also laid. Then, assisted by two monks, he descended
into the ditch, stretched himself on his back, with his hands
crossed over his breast and his eyes closed, counterfeiting
death as well as he could.

Immediately the officiating priest intoned the "De Pro-
fundis Clamavi, ' ' and while the choir was chanting it, all
those monks clad in black, all those gentlemen and servants
in mourning, with torches in their hands, shedding tears,
denied around the deceased, each in turn sprinkling holy
water and wishing eternal rest to his soul.

The number carrying holy water was so large that the
ceremony lasted more than two hours: consequently, the
Emperor was quite deluged with the holy water, which
pierced through his black robe; this, joined to the cold
and biting wind which blew on him up from the mortuary
cellars of the abbey through the crevices in the stone, had
such an effect on the Emperor that he was shivering fright-
fully when, after all had left the church except himself and
his two monks, he regained his cell. So that, feeling him-
self quaking all over —

"I do not know, my good Fathers," he said, "if it was
worth while, in truth, for me to get up again."

In fact, after entering his cell, Charles Y. had to take
to his bed, and, once in bed, he never did get up again; so
that in less than a month* after the counterfeit ceremony,
the real ceremony was celebrated, and all that had been
prepared for the fictitious death served for the true one.

It was on the 21st of September, 1558, that the Emperor
Charles V. rendered the last sigh in the arms of the Arch-

194 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

bishop of Toledo, who was fortunately at Palencia, and
whom the dying man sent for, for the last time, according
to the promise he had made, six months before, to summon
him at the hour of death.

He had lived fifty -seven years, seven months, and twenty-
one days; he had reigned forty-four years, governed the em-
pire thirty-eight, and as he had been born on the festival
of one apostle, Saint- Mathias, so he died on the festival of
another apostle, Saint- Matthew; namely, on the 21st of
September.

Father Strada relates, in his "History of Flanders," that
on the very night of the death of Charles V. , a lily flowered
in the garden of the monastery of Saint- Just; of which fact
the monks having been informed, this lily was exposed on
the high altar as an evident proof of the whiteness of the
soul of Charles Y.

History is a beautiful thing! And that is the reason
why, not considering ourselves worthy to be a historian,
we have become a romancer.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 195

SECOND PAR T

THE COURT OF FRANCE

A LITTLE more than a year after the abdication of
Charles V. at Brussels, about the period when the
ex- emperor was isolating himself from the world in
the monastery of Saint- Just, at the moment when, from the
heights of Saint- Grermain, the harvests of the plain could
be seen yellowing in the distance, and just as the last days
of July were rolling their clouds of flame in a sky of azure,
a brilliant cavalcade was issuing forth from the old chateau
and advancing into the park, whose fine tall trees were be-
ginning to take on those warm hues which the painter loves.

A brilliant cavalcade, if ever there was one! for it was
composed of King Henri II. , his sister, Madame Marguerite
of France, his mistress, the beautiful Duchesse de Valen-
tinois, his daughter, Elisabeth de Yalois, the young Queen
of Scotland, Mary Stuart, and the principal lords and ladies
who, at this time, made the ornament and glory of the
House of Valois — a house that succeeded to the throne
in the person of Fra^ois L, who died, as we have said, on
the 31st of May, 1547.

Moreover, over one of the highest balconies of the
chateau leaned Queen Catherine de Medicis, resting on an
iron railing wrought as delicately as lacework, with the two
young princes who were to be afterward Charles IX. and
Henri III., but now, respectively, seven and six years old;
and little Marguerite, five years of age, and destined to

(9)— Vol. 20

196 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

be Queen of Navarre. All three, as we may see, were
too young to accompany their father to the hunt which
was in preparation.

As for Queen Catherine, she had made a slight indispo-
sition the pretext for not forming one of the hunting party;
and as Queen Catherine was one of those women who never
do anything without a reason, we may be very sure she had,
if not a real indisposition, at least a reason for being in-
disposed.

All the personages we have named being required to
take a very active part in the story we have undertaken
to relate, the reader will permit us, before taking up the
broken thread of events, to place before his eyes a physical
and moral picture of these personages.

Let us begin with Henri II., who was riding in advance,
having on his right Madame Marguerite, his sister, and on
his left the Duchesse de Yalentinois.

He was at this time a handsome, haughty chevalier of
thirty-nine years, with black eyebrows, black eyes, black
beard, a swarthy complexion, aquiline nose, and fine white
teeth; not so tall, not so muscular as his father, but with
a form admirably proportioned, which was above the middle
height; fond of war to that degree that, when he had not
one in his own states or in those of his neighbors, he wished
to have the semblance of one in his court and in the midst
of his pleasures.

And so, even in times of peace, King Henri II. — having
barely that tincture of letters necessary for the dispensation
of honorable rewards to poets, his opinions on whom were
ready made, being all received from his sister Marguerite,
his mistress, the fair Diane, or his charming little ward,
Mary Stuart — so, even in times of peace, we repeat, King
Henri II. was the least idle man in his realm. Here is how
he divided his days:

His mornings and evenings — that is to say, the hours
after rising and before retiring — were devoted to business;
two hours in the morning were usually sufficient for the pur-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 197

pose. Then lie heard Mass very piously ; for he was a good
Catholic, as he proved when he declared he would like
to see Jean Dubourg, counsellor to the Parliament, burned
with his own eyes — a pleasure he could not have, however,
as he died six months before the poor Huguenot was sent to
the stake. He dined at noon, after which he paid a visit,
accompanied by the lords and ladies of his court, to Queen
Catherine, with whom he found, as Brantome tells us, a
crowd of human goddesses, one lovelier than the other.
Then, while he entertained the queen, or madame his
sister, or the little queen dauphiness, Mary Stuart, or
his eldest daughters, each lord and geAtleman did the
same as the king, chatting with the lady who pleased him
best. This lasted nearly two hours ; then the king passed to
his exercises. During summer these exercises were tennis.

Henri II. was passionately fond of tennis; not that he
was a very skilful player, but he played second or tierce;
that is to say, he always selected, in harmony with his ad-
venturous character, the most dangerous or most difficult
posts; so he was the best second and the best tierce in his
kingdom, to use the language of the period. Moreover, it
was he who always defrayed the expenses of the game,
whether he won or lost: if he won, he abandoned the win-
nings to his partners ; if the latter lost, he paid for them.

The stakes were "usually from five to six hundred
crowns, and not, as in the case of the kings his successors,
four thousand, six thousand, ten thousand crowns. ''But,"
says Brantome, "the payments were made at once, while in
our day you are obliged to submit to any number of honor-
able compositions."

The other exercises of the king held a secondary place
in his esteem, but in them he was very adroit also.

If it was winter, and there was a hard frost, the court set
out for Fontainebleau, and there was sliding either on the
avenues of the park or on the ponds. When the snow had
been excessive, bastions were erected, and there was a battle
of snowballs; finally, if it rained instead of snowing, they

198 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

scattered among the halls on the ground- floors, and prac-
ticed fencing.

M. de Boucard had been the victim of this latter exer-
cise. The king, when dauphin, happened, while fencing
with him, to destroy one of his eyes — an accident for which
he politely begged his pardon, says the author from whom we
borrow these details.

The ladies of the court were present at all these exer-
cises, summer and winter, the opinion of the king being
that their presence spoiled nothing, and gave a grace to
many things.

In the evening, after supper, they returned to the queen;
and when there was no ball — an amusement, for that matter,
rare enough at the time — two hours were spent in conver-
sation. The poets and men of letters were introduced;
namely, MM. Eonsard, Dorat, and Muret — as clever Limou-
sins as ever munched a turnip, says Brantome — and MM.
Danesius and Amyot, the tutors of Prince Fra^ois and
Prince Charles, respectively; and then there was between
these illustrious jousters assaults of science and poesy which
much delighted the ladies.

One thing — when by some chance it was thought of —
cast a veil of mourning over this noble court; it was an
unfortunate prediction made on the day of King Henri's
accession to the throne.

A soothsayer, summoned to the chateau to draw his
nativity, had announced, in presence of the Connetable
Montmorency, that the king would die in single combat.
Thereupon, the latter, quite joyous because such a death
was promised him, turned to the constable, saying —

"Do you hear, gossip, what this man promises me ?"

The constable, believing the king frightened at the pre-
diction, answered with his customary brutality :

"What, sire! would you believe these rascals, who are
nothing but liars and babblers ? Let me fling the predic-
tion in the fire, and him along with it, to teach such knaves
not to humbug us with such trickery!"

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 199

But the king answered, "By no means, gossip; it some-
times happens, on the contrary, that these people tell the
truth. And, besides, the prediction is not a bad one, in
my opinion. I would rather die that death than any other,
provided, of course, that I fall beneath the stroke of a brave
and valiant gentleman, and that my glory remain intact. ' '

And, instead of flinging the prediction and the astrol-
oger into the fire, he munificently rewarded the latter, and
gave the prediction into the keeping of M. de I'Aubespine,
one of his good counsellors, whom he specially employed
in diplomatic affairs.

This prediction was again discussed for a moment when
M. de Chatillon returned from Brussels; for it will be re-
membered that Charles V. , in the little house in the park,
had requested the admiral to warn his fair cousin Henri
that his captain of the Scotch Guard, Gabriel de Lorges,
Comte de Montgomery, had between the eyes a fatal sign
presaging the death of one of the princes of the fleur-de-lis.

But, reflecting on the matter, King Henri II. saw the
little probability there was of a duel between him and his
captain of the Guards, and, after classing the first prophecy
among things possible and deserving attention, he classed
the second among things impossible deserving no attention
at all ; so that, instead of separating from Gabriel de Lorges,
as would perhaps have done a prince less timid, he, on the
contrary, redoubled his favor and familiarity toward him.

We have said that Madame Marguerite of France, daugh-
ter of Frangois I., was riding on the king's right.

Let us turn our attention, for a moment, to this princess,
one of the most accomplished of the age, and more closely
connected with our subject than any other.

The Princess Marguerite of France was born on the
5th of June, 1523, in that same chateau of Saint- Germain
through whose door we have just passed; hence it follows
that, at the moment we make her pass under the eyes of
the reader, she was thirty -three years and nine months
old.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

How was it that so great and fair a princess remained so
long without a spouse? For this there were two reasons:
the first she had told aloud and before all; the second she
did dare, perhaps, to whisper to herself.

When she was quite a young girl, Frangois I. desired to
marry her to M. de Yendome, first prince of the blood; but
she, proud even to disdain, replied that she would never
marry a man who must some day be the subject of the king
her brother.

This was the reason she gave aloud for remaining single,
and not falling from her rank as a princess of France.

Let us now look at the reason she whispered to herself,
and which was probably the true cause of her refusal.

At the time of the interview at Nice between Pope Paul
III. and FranQois L, the Queen of Navarre, by order of the
king, visited the late Duke of Savoy in the castle of Nice,
accompanied by her niece, Madame Marguerite. Now, the
old duke thought the young princess charming, and spoke
of a marriage between her and Emmanuel Philibert. The
two children saw each other; but Emmanuel, entirely de-
voted to the exercises of his age, to his affection for Leona,
and his friendship for Scianca-Ferro, hardly noticed the
young princess. It was not the same with her; the image
of the young prince had made a strong impression upon her
heart, and when negotiations were broken off, and war was
resumed between the King of France and the Duke of
Savoy, she suffered from real despair — a childish despair
to which no one paid any attention, and which, for a long
time, fed with her tears, had changed to a gentle melan-
choly, encouraged by that vague hope which never deserts
tender and believing hearts.

Twenty years had vanished since that epoch; and now,
under one pretext or another, Marguerite refused the hand
of every suitor proposed to her.

While waiting for the chances of fate or the decrees of
Providence to second her secret wishes, she had grown, had
advanced in years, and was now a charming princess, full

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 201

of grace, pleasantness, and tender compassion, with beau-
tiful blond hair, the color of golden ears of corn, chestnut
eyes, the nose a little pronounced, thick lips, and a com-
plexion of a lovely white tinged with rose.

We have said that on the other side of the king rode
Diane de Poitiers, Comtesse de Breze, daughter of that
Sieur de Saint- Vallier who, as an accomplice of the Con-
netable de Bourbon, had been condemned to be beheaded
on the Greve, and who, when kneeling under the sword of
the executioner, had been pardoned — if the thing can be
called a pardon — and had his sentence commuted to per-
petual imprisonment 4l within four walls, the floor and roof
both built of stone, and with one little window only, through
which he was to receive whatever he ate and drank. ' '

Everything connected with Diane was mystery and mar-
vel. She was born in 1499, and had, at the period we are
describing, reached the age of fifty-eight years; yet, by her
apparent youth and real beauty, she threw the fairest and
youngest princesses of the court into the shade; so that
the king loved her before all and above all.

Some of the mysterious and marvellous things told of
the fair Diane, who had been created Duchesse de Yalen-
tinois by Henri II. in 1548, were the following:

In the first place, she was most undoubtedly descended
from the fairy Melusine, and the king's love and her won-
derfully preserved beauty were both results of this descent.
Diane de Poitiers inherited from her ancestress, the great
sorceress, the double secret, a secret rare and magical, of
being always beautiful and always beloved.

Diane, it was stated, owed this eternal beauty to soups
composed of potable gold. We know what an important
ingredient was potable gold in the chemical preparations
of the Middle Ages.

This love without end was due to a magical ring the
king had received from her, and which had the virtue of
binding his love to her as long as he wore it.

The last report attained particular credit, for Madame

202 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

de Nemours used to relate, to all who cared to listen, the
anecdote we are about to relate in our turn.

The king having fallen sick, Queen Catherine de Me*dicis
said to Madame de Nemours:

1 ' My dear duchess, the king has a great affection for you.
Go to his chamber, sit near the bed, and, while talking with
him, try to take from the third finger of the left hand the
ring he wears on it; it is a talisman given him by Madame
de Valentinois to make him love her."

Now, nobody in the court felt any very deep affection
for Madame de Yalentinois, not that she was ill-natured,
but the young did not like her because she was so obstinate
in continuing young, and the old women detested her be-
cause she would not become old. Madame de Nemours
willingly took charge of the commission ; and, having made
her way into the king's chamber, and sat down near the
bed, she succeeded in sportively drawing the ring from
Henri's finger, he himself being quite ignorant of its virtue.
But the ring was scarcely off the sick man's finger when
he begged Madame de Nemours to whistle for his valet de
chambre. We know that, up to the time of Madame
de Maintenon, who invented bells, the gold or silver
whistle was used by kings, princes, and great lords for
summoning their people. The sick man then had begged
Madame de Nemours to whistle for his valet de chambre,
who, having entered immediately, received the king's order
to close his doors to all comers.

''Even to Madame de Yalentinois?" asked the aston-
ished valet.

"To Madame de Yalentinois as to others," answered the
king, sharply; "the order admits no exception. "

A quarter of an hour afterward Madame de Yalentinois
presented herself at the king's door, and was refused ad-
mittance.

She returned at the end of an hour: same refusal.
Finally, at the end of two hours, in spite of a third refusal,
she forced the door, entered, marched straight up to the

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king, took his hand, perceived that the ring was missing,
made him confess what had passed, and insisted on Henri's
getting the ring back from Madame de Nemours. The
king's order to surrender the precious jewel was so per-
emptory that Madame de Nemours, who had not yet de-
livered it to Catherine de Medicis, grew frightened at the
consequences, and sent it back. The ring once again on
the king's finger, the fairy resumed all her power, which,
indeed, since that day had gone on increasing.

In spite of the grave authorities who relate the history —
and note well that for the potable gold we have no less
a witness than Brantome, while to the truth of the affair
of the ring, we have the solemn affirmations of De Thou
and Pasquier — we are tempted to believe that the beauty
of Diane de Poitiers was unconnected with the miraculous,
a beauty which was to have its counterpart a hundred years
later in the case of Ninon de Lenclos ; and we are disposed
to accept, as the only and true magic used by her, that con-
tained in the receipt she gave to any one for the asking;
namely, a bath of spring water in all weathers, even the
coldest. Besides, every morning she rose with the lark,
rode for two hours, and on her return went to bed again,
where she stayed till noon, reading, or chatting with her
women.

But this has not been all: everything in connection with
the fair Diane has been a subject of controversy, and the
gravest historians would seem, in her regard, to have for-
gotten this first condition of history, which is to always
have the proof standing behind the accusation.

Mezeray relates — and we are not sorry to catch Me*zeray
in a blunder — that Frangois I. granted the pardon of Jean
de Poitiers, father of Diane, only after he had deprived the
daughter of the most valuable thing she possessed. Now this
took place in 1523; Diane, born in 1499, was twenty-four
at the time, and had been married to Louis de Breze* for ten
years. We do not say that Frangois I., a monarch chary
in exacting his dues, did not impose certain conditions on

204 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

the fair Diane ; but it was not, as Mezeray says, on a young
girl of fourteen that he imposed these conditions, and unless
we want to caluminate poor M. de Bre'ze', to whom his
widow raised that magnificent monument still admired in
Rouen, we cannot imagine he allowed the king to deprive
a woman of twenty -four of the most valuable thing she
possessed at fourteen.

All we have written has, for that matter, only one ob-
ject: to prove to our fair readers that the history written
by romancers is far superior to the history written by his-
torians; in the first place, because it is truer, and in the
second, because it is more amusing.

To make a long story short, Diane, though at this period
twenty-six years a widow and twenty -one years King Henri's
mistress, had, in spite of the fact that she was fully fifty-
eight, the smoothest and loveliest complexion that could
be seen, curly hair of the most bewitching black, a form
of admirable symmetry, and a faultless neck and throat.

This was the opinion of old Conne'table Montmorency,
who, notwithstanding his sixty-four years, claimed to enjoy
quite peculiar privileges in the case of the beautiful duchess
— privileges which would have rendered the king very jeal-
ous, if it were not an admitted fact that it is always the
people interested in being the first to know a thing who
know it last, and sometimes never know it at all.

We ask pardon for this long historico- critical digression;
but if any woman in that graceful, lettered and gallant court
deserved the trouble of it, surely it was she who made her
royal lover wear her colors as a widow — black and white —
and adopt the crescent for an escutcheon inspired by her
fine pagan name of Diane, with these words for a motto:
Donee totum impleat orbem !

We have said that behind King Henri II., having on
his right Madame Marguerite of France, and on his left the
Duchesse de Valentinois, came the Dauphin Frangois, hav-
ing on his right his sister Elisabeth, and on his left his
betrothed, Mary Stuart.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 205

The dauphin was fourteen, Elisabeth thirteen, Mary
Stuart thirteen — forty years in all.

The dauphin was a weak and sickly child, with pale
complexion and chestnut hair. His eyes were dull and
expressionless, except when they looked upon Mary Stu-
art; for then they became animated, and had an expres-
sion of desire which turned the child into a young man.
Moreover, he was little inclined toward the violent exer-
cises in which his father delighted, and seemed the prey
of an incessant languor, the cause of which was vainly
sought for by his physicians. They would have found it,
perhaps, according to the pamphlets of the time, in the
chapter of Suetonius 's "Twelve Caesars," where he relates
the rides of Nero in a litter with his mother, Agrippina.
Still, let us hasten to say it, Catherine cle Medicis, both as
a Catholic and a foreigner, was hated by one party, and
we should not believe, without careful scrutiny, everything
related in the pasquinades, ribald songs, and satires of the
times, almost all products of the Calvinistic press. The pre-
mature deaths of the young princes, Fra^ois and Charles,
to whom their mother preferred Henri, contributed not a
little to give credit to all these malicious rumors which
have traversed the ages, and have come down to us, wearing
an aspect of almost historic authenticity.

The Princess Elisabeth, although a year younger than
the dauphin, was much more of a young woman than he
was of a young man. Her birth had been at once a private
joy and a public happiness; for, at the very moment she
appeared in the world, peace was signed between Francois
I. and Henry VIII. Thus, she who by her marriage was to
bring about peace with Spain, by her birth brought about
peace with England. Besides, her father, Henri II., held
her in such esteem for her beauty and character that, hav-
ing married her younger sister, Madame Claude, to the Due
de Lorraine, he replied to some one who was remonstrating
with him on the wrong this marriage did the elder: "My
daughter Elisabeth is not one of those who are satisfied

206 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

with a duchy for dowry; she needs a kingdom, and not
one of the minor kingdoms either, but one of the grandest
and noblest, so grand and noble is she herself in everything !"

She won the kingdom promised her, and with it misfor-
tune and death.

Alas! a better fate was not awaiting that lovely Mary
who rode on the left of the dauphin, her betrothed !

There are misfortunes which have such a reverberation
that they have awakened an echo through the whole world,
and which, having attracted to their objects the gaze of
their contemporaries, still attract to them the eyes of pos-
terity whenever the utterance of some name recalls them.

Such are the misfortunes — misfortunes somewhat de-
served, perhaps — of the fair Mary. They have so far sur-
passed the ordinary measure that the faults, even crimes,
of the guilty queen have disappeared in presence of the
exaggeration of the chastisement.

But, all the same, the little Queen of Scotland followed
joyously her path in a life saddened at its beginning by the
death of her father, the chivalrous James V. ; her mother
wore for her that Scottish crown of thorns, which, accord-
ing to the words of her father, "came with a lass and would
go with a lass!" On the 20th of August, 1548, she arrived
at Morlaix, and for the first time touched the soil of France,
where her happiest days were passed. She brought with her
that garland of Scotch roses called the Four Marys, who
were of the same age, born in the same year and month as
herself, and who were named Mary Fleming, Mary Seaton,
Mary Livingstone and Mary Beaton. She was at this time
an adorable child, and, as she grew, became an adorable
young girl. Her uncles, the Guises, who believed they saw
in her the realization of all their ambitious projects, and
who, not content with extending their sway over France,
dreamed of extending it by her means over Scotland, per-
haps over England, made her the object of their ardent
worship. Thus the Cardinal de Lorraine wrote to his sis-
ter, Marie de Guise:

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' ' Your daughter has increased, and is every day increas-
ing in goodness, beauty, and virtue; the king spends his
time conversing with her, and she addresses him in words
as good and wise as would a woman of twenty-five years
of age."

But it was now the bud of this impassioned rose that was
opening to love and pleasure. Not knowing how to do any-
thing which did not please her, she did, on the contrary,
with ardor, everything that pleased her: did she dance, it
was until she fell exhausted; did she ride, it was at a gal-
lop, and until the best steed was worn out; did she attend
a concert, the music sent through her electric thrills.

Sparkling with precious stones, flattered, caressed, and
adored, she was, at the age of thirteen, one of the marvels
of that court of Valois, so full of marvels. Catherine de
Medicis, who was not specially fond of her son, said, "Our
little Scottish queen has only to smile to turn all French
heads. ' '

Ronsard said:

Midst the lilies of Spring her fair body was born,
Of whose whiteness a copy the lily alone is,
And the bloom on her red cheeks laughed to scorn
The roses tinged with the blood of Adonis.
The darts in her eyes were Love's own darts,
And the heavenly Graces, with zeal and fervor,
Imparted to her all that heaven imparts
And left their abodes from a craving to serve her.

And of all these charming flatteries, the royal child could
comprehend the delicate shades: prose and verse had no se-
crets from her. She spoke Greek, Latin, Italian, English,
Spanish and French; and while poetry and science made
for her a crown, the other arts had her protection. The
court was constantly changing its place of residence; and
so she was led with it from Saint- Germain to Chambord,
from Chambord to Fontainebleau, from Fontainebleau to
the Louvre. There she grew more fascinating every day
beneath the ceilings of Primatice, in the midst of the can-

208 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

vases of Titian, the frescoes of Eosso, the masterpieces of
Leonardo da Yinci, the statues of Germain Pilon, the sculp-
tures of Jean Goujon, the monuments, porticoes, chapels of
Philibert Delorme; so that any one seeing her so poetic,
so charming, so perfect among all those marvels of genius,
would be tempted to believe that she was not a visible cre-
ation belonging to humanity, but rather some metamorpho-
sis, like that of Galatea, some Yenus detached from the
canvas, some Hebe descended from the pedestal.

And now, as we lack the pencil of the painter, we can
only try, with the pen of the romancer, to give an idea of
that intoxicating loveliness.

She was, we have said, about fourteen years old. Her
complexion was a blending of the lily, the peach, and the
rose, with a little more of the lily, perhaps, than of all
the rest. Her forehead was high and rounded in the upper
part, and seemed the fitting seat of lofty dignity, being at
once — strange mixture — full of gentleness, intelligence and
daring. One felt that the will inclosed by that forehead, if
directed toward love and pleasure, would leap beyond ordi-
nary passions, and when its voluptuous and despotic in-
stincts should need satisfaction, would not hesitate even at
crime. Her nose, fine and delicate, yet firm, was aquiline,
like those of the Guises. Her ear was small, and with the
convolutions of a shell of mother of pearl, irised with rose
under the palpitating temple. Her brown eyes, of that tint
which wavers between chestnut and violet, were of a humid
transparency, and, however full of flame, under chestnut
lashes and eyebrows designed with an antique purity. In
fine, two charming curves formed a mouth with purple
lips, tremulous and half -opened, which, in smiling, seemed
to spread joy around her, and which surmounted a vigorous
chin, white, rounded, and lost in contours which insensibly
united with an undulating, velvety neck like that of a swan.

Such was the young girl whom Eonsard and Du Bellay
named their tenth Muse; such was the head destined thirty-
one years later to rest on the block of Fotheringay, and

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to be separated from the body by the axe of Elizabeth's
executioner.

Alas ! if a magician came and told all that crowd, gazing
upon the brilliant cavalcade, plunging under the great trees
of the park of Saint- Grermain, the fate that awaited these
kings and princes and princesses, these great lords and great
ladies, is there a woollen jacket or a drugget gown that
would have changed its lot for that of these fine gentlemen
in silks and velvets, or of these fair dames with corsages
embroidered with pearls and gold-brocaded petticoats?

Let us allow them to wander under the gloomy vaults
of chestnut and beech, and return to the chateau of Saint-
Grermain, where we have said that Catherine de Medicis
remained, under pretext of a slight indisposition.

II

THE KING'S HUNT

HAKDLY had the pages and equerries, forming the last
ranks of the cortege, disappeared in the depths of the
coppices which succeed the great trees, and which,
at this period, made a sort of girdle to the park of Saint-
Germain, before Catherine withdrew from the balcony, lead-
ing Charles and Henri with her, and then, sending the elder
away to his professor, and the younger to his woman attend-
ants, she remained alone with the little Marguerite, still too
young for people to trouble themselves about what she
might see or hear.

When Catherine's two sons were gone, her confidential
valet de chambre entered, and announced that the two persons
she expected were at her orders, in her cabinet.

She rose immediately, hesitated an instant to consider
whether she would not dismiss the young princess, as she
had dismissed the young princes, but, doubtless judging

210 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

her presence of little danger, she took her by the hand,
and proceeded toward her cabinet.

Catherine de Medicis was at this time a woman of thirty-
eight years, of a fine and generous presence, and of great
majesty. Her dark eyes were almost always half closed,
except when she felt it necessary to read to the bottom of
the hearts of her enemies ; then their look had the twofold
brilliancy and the twofold keenness of two blades drawn
from their scabbards, and plunged at the same time into
the same breast, where they remained buried until its most
secret recesses were explored.

She had suffered much, and had smiled much to hide her
sufferings. At first, during the ten years of her marriage —
which were barren, and during which it was twenty times
debated whether she should not be repudiated, and a new
spouse given to the dauphin — her husband's love pro-
tected her and struggled obstinately against the most
terrible of all reasons — a state reason. Finally, in 1544,
after being married eleven years, she gave birth to Prince
Frangois.

But her husband had already become the lover of Diane
de Poitiers nine years before.

Perhaps if she had been a happy mother and a fruitful
spouse from the beginning of her marriage, she would, as
woman and queen, have struggled against the fair duchess;
but her barrenness reduced her to a lower rank than that
of a mistress.

Instead of struggling, she yielded, and by her humility
earned the protection of her rival.

Moreover, all these brave lords, all these brilliant war-
riors who had no esteem for any nobility that had not its
root in blood, and was not a flower gathered on the field
of battle, made little case of the commercial race of the
Medicis. They played on the name and on the coat of
arms: her ancestors were doctors, medici ; their arms were
not cannon-balls, but pills, they said.

Mary Stuart, who caressed with her pretty hand the

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Duchesse de Yalentinois, sometimes used the same hand
as a claw to scratch Catherine.

' ' Are you coming with us to see the Florentine trades-
woman?" she said to Connetable de Montmorency.

Catherine drank all these insults to the dregs: she was
waiting. What was she waiting for? She did not know
herself for certain. Henri II. was of the same age as she,
and his health promised him a long life. No matter; she
waited with the obstinacy of genius, which, feeling and ap-
preciating its own value, understands that God makes noth-
ing useless, and therefore the future held something in store
for her.

At this time she belonged to the party of the Cruises.
The character of Henri was weak, and he could never be
sole master: now he was master with the constable, and the
Cruises were in disgrace ; now he was master with the Cruises,
and it was the constable who was out in the cold.

And so the following quatrain had been made on
Henri II.

Sire, if you let yourself be too much governed,
And kneaded, melted, this and that way turned,
As Charles and Diane both alike require, 'tis cire (wax)
You are, and surely no more sire.

We know who Diane was; as to Charles, he was the
Cardinal de Lorraine.

And, indeed, the family of Lorraine was a proud and
noble family. One day came Due Claude to render homage
to FranQois I. at the Louvre. He was accompanied by his
six sons, and King Fra^ois said to him, "My cousin, I hold
you for a very fortunate man to see yourself renewed before
dying in such a fair and wealthy posterity. ' '

These words were true: Due Claude, at his death, left
behind him the richest, ablest, and most ambitious family
in the kingdom. These six brothers, presented to Frangois
by their father, possessed a revenue of about eight hundred
thousand livres; that is to say, more than four millions,
according to the value of money at present.

212 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

First came the eldest, he who was called Due Frangois
le Balafre; the great Due de Guise, in fact. His position at
court was that of a prince of the blood. He had a chaplain,
eight secretaries, twenty pages, eighty officers, kennels
whose tenants were only inferior to the greyhounds of the
king, "the royal pedigree," as the term then was; stables
filled with Arabian horses brought from Africa, Turkey,
and Spain; gerfalcons and falcons beyond price, sent him
by Soliman and all the infidel princes, who presented them
to him as tokens of their respect for his fame. The King
of Navarre wrote to him to announce the birth of his son,
afterward Henri IV. The Conne'table de Montmorency, the
haughtiest baron of his age, in writing to him, began his
letter with Monseigneur, and ended with Your very humble
and obedient servant, while he, on the other hand, ad-
dressed him as, M. le Connetable and Your very good friend;
which, for that matter, was far from being true, the House
of Guise and the House of Montmorency being at eternal
feud.

It is necessary to read the chronicles of the time, either
placed before our view by the aristocratic pen of Brantome,
or registered hour by hour in the journal of the "Grand
Audiencier Pierre de 1'Estoille, to form an idea of the power
of this privileged race, as much at home in the streets as on
the field of battle, as eagerly listened to in the stalls of the
markets as in the cabinets of the Louvre, Windsor, and the
Vatican, especially when it spoke through the lips of Due
Frangois. Just only look at the cuirass in the Musee d' Ar-
tillery, which the eldest of the Guises wore at the siege of
Metz, and you will see there the trace of five balls, three of
which would certainly have been mortal if they had not been
deadened against the rampart of steel.

Consequently, it was a joy for the population of Paris
when he issued forth from the Hotel de Guise, and when,
far better known and more popular than the king himself,
mounted on Fleur-de-lis or Mouton — they were his two favor-
ite steeds — with his pourpoint and breeches of crimson silk,

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 213

his velvet mantle, his cap surmounted by a plume of the
same color, and followed by four hundred gentlemen, he
traversed the streets of the capital. All flocked to see him
on his passage, some breaking off branches and others
plucking flowers and casting branches and flowers under
his horse's feet, while crying —

"Long live our Duke!"

And he, standing up on his spurs, as he did on the field
of battle, in order to see further and invite danger to him-
self, or leaning down to the right and left, with a courteous
salutation for the women, the aged, and, indeed, for all
human beings, with a smile for the young girls, and a caress
for the children, he was the true king, not of the Louvre,
Saint- G-ermain, Fontainebleau, or Tournelles, but the king
of the streets and market stalls — a true king, a real king,
since he was king. of hearts!

So, at the risk of the truce of which France had so great
need, when Pope Paul III. — on account of a private quarrel
with the Colonna, who were rendered bold enough to take
up arms against the Holy See by the support they expected
to find in Philip II. — when the Pope, we say, because of
this quarrel, declared that the King of Spain had forfeited
the kingdom of Naples, and offered this realm to Henri II. ,
the king had no hesitation in naming FranQois de Cruise
commander- in- chief of the army he sent into Italy.

It is true that on this occasion, and perhaps for the first
time, Guise and Montmorency happened to be of one mind.
For, when FranQois de Cruise was outside of France, Anne
de Montmorency was sure to be the first person in the realm;
and, while the great captain was pursuing beyond the moun-
tains his plans of glory, Montmorency, who believed him-
self a great statesman, was pursuing his plans of ambition
at the court, and his most ardent ambition was, for the mo-
ment, to marry his son to Madame Diane, the legitimate
daughter of the Duchesse de Yalentinois, and widow of the
Duke de Castro, of the House of Farnese, killed at the as-
sault of Hesdin.

214 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Frangois de Guise was then at Rome, making war on the
Duke of Alba.

With Due Frangois was the Cardinal de Lorraine, a great
prince of the church, scarcely inferior to his brother in any-
thing, and whom Pope Pius V. called the Pope beyond the
mountains. ' ' He was, ' ' says the author of the * ' History of
Mary Stuart," "a two-edged sword as a negotiator, as proud
as a Guise and as subtle as an Italian. ' ' Later on he was to
conceive, mature, and put into execution that great idea of
the League which placed his nephew on the steps of a throne
up to the moment when both nephew and uncle fell, pierced
by the swords of the Forty -five. When the six Guises were
at court, the four, the Due d'Aumale, the Grand Prior, the
Marquis d'Elbeuf, and the Cardinal de Guise, never -failed
to come first to the levee of Cardinal Charles; then all five
went to that of Due Frangois, who conducted them to the
king.

Both, for that matter — the one as a warrior, the other as
a churchman — had erected their batteries for the future:
Due Frangois had become the master of the king, and Car-
dinal Charles the lover of the queen. The grave Estoille
relates the fact in a manner that cannot leave the most in-
credulous reader in doubt: "One of my friends told me that,
having slept with the valet of the cardinal in a chamber
next to that of the queen -mother, he saw the cardinal,
dressed only in a robe de chambre, going to see the said
queen, and that his friend begged him not to mention it to
any one, or he might lose his life. ' '

As to the four princes of the House of Guise, to attempt
their portrait would lead us too far, and, besides, the part
they play in our story is almost null. Let us confine our-
selves, therefore, to those we have sketched of Due Fran-
gois and Cardinal Charles.

It was Cardinal Charles whom we have beheld one
night, dressed only in a robe de chambre, going to see the
said queen, that was waiting for Catherine de Me'dicis in
her cabinet.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 215

Catherine knew she should find him there, but she ex-
pected to find him alone.

He was, however, accompanied by a young man of from
twenty- five to twenty -six years, elegantly clad, although
still wearing his travelling-dress.

"Ah! it is you, M. de Nemours!" exclaimed Catherine,
as soon as she perceived him. "You arrive from Italy?
What news from Eome ?"

"Bad!" replied the cardinal, while the Due de Nemours
saluted the queen.

"Bad! Could our dear cousin the Due de Guise have
been beaten?" asked Catherine. "Take care! Though
you answered yes, I would say no, to such a degree do I
hold the thing impossible!"

"No, madame," replied Nemours, "M. de Guise has not
been beaten ; as you say, the thing is impossible ! But he
has been betrayed by the Caraffa, abandoned by the Pope
himself; and he has despatched me to the king to tell him
that the position was no longer tenable either for his own
glory or for that of France, and that he demanded reinforce-
ments or a recall. ' '

"And, according to our arrangements, madame," said
the cardinal, ' ' I have led M. de Nemours to you first. ' '

"But," said Catherine, "the recall of M. de Guise is the
abandonment of the King of France's claim to the kingdom
of Naples, and of mine to the duchy of Tuscany. ' '

"Yes," said the cardinal; "but you may be quite sure,
madame, that we shall soon have war in France, and that
then we shall not so much think of conquering Naples and
Florence as of protecting Paris. ' '

"What, Paris? You are laughing, M. le Cardinal. It
seems to me that France can defend France, and Paris can
protect herself without any help. ' '

"I am afraid you are mistaken, madame," replied the
cardinal. "The best of our troops, counting on the truce,
have passed into Italy with my brother; and, certainly, ex-
cept for the ambiguous conduct of Cardinal Caraffa and the

216 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

treason of the Duke of Parma, who has forgotten what he
owed to the King of France, and deserted to the Emperor,
our prospects of success in Naples, and the necessity under
which Philip II. would have labored of stripping himself to
protect Naples, would have safeguarded us from an attack;
but now that Philip II. is sure he has men enough in Italy
to hold us in check, he will turn his eyes in the direction of
France, and not fail to profit by its weakness. Need I add
that the nephew of M. le Connetable has been guilty of a
piece of folly which will give to the rupture of the truce by
Philip II. an appearance of justice?"

"You mean his attack on Douai?"

"Decidedly."

"Listen," said Catherine. "You know I like the ad-
miral as little as you do yourself; so you may do him as
much harm as you can without my placing any obstacle in
your way ; on the contrary, I will help you all I can. ' '

"Meanwhile, what do you decide on doing?" said the
cardinal. And seeing that she hesitated, "Oh!" he said,
"you can speak before M. de Nemours; he is of Savoy, it is
true, but as much our friend as his cousin Emmanuel Phili-
bert is our enemy. ' '

"Decide yourself, my dear cardinal," casting an oblique
glance at him; "I am but a woman whose weak mind has
little skill in affairs of state. Decide, then. ' '

The cardinal had understood the look of Catherine: for
her there were no friends ; there were only accomplices.

"No matter, madame, " said Charles; "be good enough
to give an opinion, and I shall take the liberty of combating
it, should it" happen to be in contradiction with mine."

"Well, I think," said Catherine, "that the king, being
the head of the state, ought to be informed of these impor-
tant things before all others. In my opinion, then, if M. de
Nemours is not too tired, he ought to take a horse, join the
king wherever he is, and transmit to him the intelligence
which your kindness, my dear cardinal, has made me mis-
tress of before him who should be first to hear it. ' '

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 217

The cardinal turned to the Duke de Nemours, as if to
question him.

"I am never fatigued, monseigneur, " he said, "when the
service of the king is in question. "

"In that case," said the cardinal, "I shall order a horse
for you, and also warn the secretaries that the king will
hold a council on his return from the chase; come, M. de
Nemours. ' '

The young duke respectfully saluted the queen, and
made ready to follow the Cardinal de Lorraine, when Cath-
erine lightly touched the arm of the latter.

1 ' Pass before me, M. de Nemours, ' ' said Charles de Cruise.

"Monseigneur — " returned Jacques de Nemours, hesitat-
ing, "I beg of you to do so."

' ' And I order you, M. le Due, ' ' said Catherine, offering
him her hand.

The duke, understanding that the queen doubtless had a
last word to say to the cardinal, no longer made a difficulty
of obeying; and, kissing her hand, he went out first, de-
signedly letting the hangings fall back behind him.

"What did you want to say to me, my dear queen ?"

"I wanted to say to you," replied Catherine, "that the
good King Louis XL, who, in exchange for five hundred
thousand loaned him, gave to our ancestor Lorenzo de Me'di-
cis leave to place three fleurs-de-lis in our arms, was in the
habit of repeating : ' If my nightcap knew my secret, I would
burn it!' Meditate on this maxim of the good King Louis,
my dear cardinal. You are too confiding!"

The cardinal smiled at the warning given him ; he, who
passed for the most distrustful statesman of the time, had
met with a distrust greater than his own.

It is true he met it in the Florentine, Catherine de
Medicis.

The cardinal, in turn, broke through the rampart of the
tapestry hangings, and saw the prudent young man, in order
not to be accused of curiosity, waiting for him ten paces
further on in the corridor.

218 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Both descended into the courtyard, where Charles de
Guise ordered a page of the stables to bring him a horse,
ready saddled, at once.

The page returned in five minutes, leading the horse.
Nemours leaped into the saddle with the elegance of a
consummate cavalier, and rode at a gallop through the
main alley of the park.

The young man had been careful to ask information as
to the direction taken by the chase, and was told the animal
would be attacked near the road to Passy.

He, therefore, rode toward that point in the expectation
that the sound of the horn would guide him to the spot
where the king happened to be. But when near the road
to Passy, he saw and heard nothing.

He questioned a woodcutter, who told him that the hunt
was now somewhere in the direction of Conflans. He imme-
diately turned his horse toward the point indicated.

At the end of an hour, while crossing a transverse path,
he perceived, in the middle of a neighboring crossroad, a
rider who was standing up in the stirrups, in order to see
further, and was holding his hand to his ear in order to hear
better.

This rider was a hunter, evidently trying to find his way.

However astray this hunter might be, he was more likely to
have an idea of the probable situation of the king than the
young duke, who had arrived from Italy hardly half an hour
before. So M. de Nemours rode straight up to the hunter.

The latter, seeing a horseman approaching, and thinking
he might learn something from him about the progress of
the chase, also advanced some steps.

But soon both, with a similar movement, set spurs to
their horses; they had recognized each other.

The strayed hunter, who tried to find his way by stand-
ing up in his stirrups in order to see, and holding his hand to
his ear in order to hear, was the captain of the Scotch Guard.

The two cavaliers approached with that courteous famili-
arity which distinguished the young lords of the period.

.,

to

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 219

Moreover, although, it is true, the Due cle Nemours was
of a princely house, the Comte de Montgomery belonged
to the oldest Norman nobility, a descendant of that Roger
de Montgomery who helped William the Bastard to con-
quer England.

Now, at this period, there existed in France some old
names that believed themselves the equals of the most puis-
sant and glorious names, in spite of the inferiority of the
titles they bore. It was so with the Montmorencys, whose
title was only that of baron; with the Rohans, who were
only seigneurs; with the Coucys, who were only sires; and
with the Montgomerys, who were only counts.

As Nemours had guessed, Montgomery had lost track
of the hunt, and was trying to find his way.

For that matter, the place where they found themselves
was well chosen for the purpose, since it was a crossroad
situated on an elevation toward which every sound must
ascend, and commanding five or six paths, by one of which
the animal would not fail to pass, when driven by the
beaters.

The two young noblemen, who had not seen each other
for more than six months, had, besides, a thousand impor-
tant questions to ask: Montgomery on the subject of the
army and the deeds of high emprise which M. de Cruise
must have naturally essayed; the other on the subject of
the French court, and the fine love -ad ventures that must
have taken place there.

They were at the liveliest part of this interesting conver-
sation when Comte Montgomery laid his hand on the arm
of the duke. He fancied he heard the baying of the pack
in the distance.

Both listened. De Lorges was not deceived: at the ex-
tremity of an immense alley they saw an enormous boar pass
as swiftly as an arrow; then, some fifty paces behind him,
the most eager of the hounds, then the bulk of the pack,
then the stragglers.

At the same moment Montgomery put his horn to his lips

(10)— Vol. 20

220 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

and sounded the sighting of the game, in order to rally such
as, like himself, had gone astray ; and the number must have
been great, f or three persons only were on the track of the
animal — a man and two women.

From the ardor with which he urged his steed, the two
believed it was the king; but the distance was so great that
it was impossible to tell who were the bold Amazons follow-
ing him so closely. All the rest of the hunt seemed com-
pletely out of its reckoning.

Nemours and Montgomery galloped to an alley which,
in view of the direction taken by the animal, allowed them
to cut the chase at a right angle.

The king had, in fact, attacked the beast, which, in terms
of venery, was what was called a ragot. It had made for one
direction with the obstinacy of the older animals, and was
dashing straight along on the road to Conflans. The king
was at once on its track, and at the sound of his horn all
the court followed the king.

But boars are bad courtiers: the one with whom, for
the moment, they had to do, instead of choosing the way
through the great old forest-trees and along the easy paths,
had dashed into the thickest copses and closest briars;
hence it resulted that, at the end of a quarter of an hour,
only the most enthusiastic hunters were near the king, and
that of all the ladies only three held out. These were Ma-
dame Marguerite, the king's sister, Diane de Poitiers, and
Mary Stuart, the little reinette, as Catherine de Medicis
called her.

In spite of the courage of the illustrious hunters and
huntresses we have named, the difficulties of the ground,
the thickness of the wood, which obliged the riders to
make detours, and the height of the clumps of briars,
which it was impossible to clear, soon caused them to
lose sight of boar and hounds; but, at the extremity of
the forest, the animal met a wall, and was forced to return
on his traces.

The king, distanced for an instant, but sure of his

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 221

hounds, then halted. This gave a few hunters time to
join him; the baying was soon heard again.

The portion of the forest for which the animal was now
making a set was more open than the other; as a conse-
quence, the king could resume the chase with a chance
of soon having the boar at bay.

Only, the same thing happened that happened ten min-
utes before: each held out according as his strength and
courage allowed him. Moreover, in the midst of this court,
entirely composed of fair lords and gallant dames, many,
perhaps, stayed behind, without being absolutely forced
thereto by the slowness of their horses, by the thickness
of the wood, or the inequalities of the ground; and this
was clearly proved by the attitude of the groups stopping
at the corners of the alleys and in the middle of the cross-
roads, which seemed more attentive to the conversation that
was going on than to the baying of the hounds or the h.orns
of the whippers-in.

And so it happened, when the animal came in view of
Montgomery and Nemours, it was followed by only a single
horseman, in whom they recognized the king, with two
ladies whom they did not know.

It was, in fact, the king, who, with his usual ardor,
wanted to be the first at the death, to be present at the
moment when the boar would make a stand backed against
some tree or rock, and would face the hounds.

The two Amazons following the horseman were Madame
de Yalentinois and little Queen Mary — the one the best, the
other the boldest, rider in the entire court.

The boar, for that matter, was growing tired; clearly,
he would have to come to a stand before long; the fiercest
of the dogs were already breathing close to his hide.

For a quarter of an hour, however, he tried to escape his
enemies by flight; but, feeling them nearer and nearer, he
resolved to die bravely, like the courageous animal he was,
and, finding a stump of a tree convenient, he planted him-
self there, growling and striking his immense jaws together.

222 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

No sooner had lie stopped than the pack was on him,
and indicated, by its redoubled baying, that the animal
was making a stand.

With the baying, the sound of the horn was soon min-
gled. Henri arrived, following the dogs as closely as they
followed the boar.

He looked around him while winding his horn in search
of his arquebusier; but he had distanced even the most ac-
tive whippers-in, even those whose duty it was never to lose
sight of him, and saw, galloping up with all the speed of
their horses, only Diane and Mary Stuart, who, as we have
said, held out.

Not a ringlet of the fair duchess's head was out of place,
and her velvet cap was fixed as firmly on the top as at the
moment of setting out.

As for little Mary, she had lost veil and cap; and her
beautiful chestnut hair, scattered to the breeze, as well as
the charming flush on her cheeks, bore witness to the ardor
of the chase.

At the prolonged notes the king drew from his horn, the
arquebusier appeared, one arquebuse in his hand, and the
other hanging from the bow of his saddle.

Behind him might be seen, through the thickness of the
wood, golden broideries and the dazzling colors of robes,
doublets and mantles. It was the hunters and huntresses
now approaching from all sides.

The animal was doing his best; attacked at the same
time by sixty dogs, he made head against all his enemies.
It is true that while the sharpest teeth were blunted on
his wrinkled hide, every stroke of his tusks made a deadly
wound in such of his adversaries as came within its reach;
but, although mortally injured, although losing all their
blood, and with their entrails dragging along the ground,
the king's grays, as they were called, were such a noble
breed that they only returned the more furiously to the
combat, and it could only be known that they were wounded
by the stains of blood that streaked this moving carpet.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 223

The king saw it was time to put an end to the butchery,
if he were not to lose his best dogs. He threw away his
horn, and made a sign for his arquebuse.

The match had been lighted ; the arquebusier had but to
present the weapon to the king. Henri was a good marks-
man, and rarely missed his aim.

With the arquebuse in his hand, he advanced to within
about twenty paces of the boar, whose eyes shone like two
live coals. He aimed between the eyes and fired.

The animal received the discharge in his head ; but by
a movement he made when the king had his hand on the
trigger, the animal slightly inclined his head, and the ball
glanced off the bone, killing one of the dogs.

The track of the ball could be seen between the eye
and the ear of the boar by the blood that indicated its
passage.

Henri remained astonished for an instant at the circum-
stance that the boar had not at once fallen, while his horse,
all quivering, his hind legs bending under him, was beating
the ground in front of him.

He handed the arquebuse to the groom, and demanded
another. The other was ready, with the match lighted; the
groom presented it.

The king took it, and raised the butt to his shoulder.
But, before he had time to aim, the boar, doubtless unwill-
ing to risk the chance of a second shot, scattered the dogs
surrounding him by a violent thrust, opened a bloody path-
way through the middle of the pack, and, quick as light-
ning, passed between the legs of the king's horse, which
reared, giving an agonizing neigh, showed his belly, from
which the blood and entrails were dropping, and suddenly
fell down, with the king under him.

All this had been so instantaneous that not one of the
spectators thought of rushing in front of the boar, which
now turned on the king before he even had time to draw his
hunting- knife.

Henri tried to reach it ; it was impossible. The hunting-

224 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

knife was under the king's left side, and so placed that it
was useless to think of extricating it.

Brave as the king was, his mouth was already opened
to cry for help — for the hideous head of the boar, its eyes of
flame, its bloody jowl and teeth of steel were within a few
inches of him — when suddenly he heard a voice in his ear,
whose firm accents there was no mistaking, saying to him —

"Do not stir, sire; I answer for everything!"

Then he felt an arm, which raised his, and saw, like a
flash of lightning, a broad, keen blade pass under his shoul-
der, and plunge up to the hilt in the body of the boar.

At the same moment two vigorous arms drew him back,
leaving, exposed to the animal, only the new adversary who
had stricken it to the heart.

He who pulled the king back was the Due de Nemours.
He who, with his knee on the ground and his arm extended,
had just stricken the boar to the heart was the Comte de
Montgomery.

Montgomery drew his sword from the body of the ani-
mal, wiped it on the green, grassy turf, returned it to the
scabbard, and, approaching Henri II. as if nothing extraor-
dinary had occurred —

1 ' Sire, ' ' said he, "I have the honor to present to you M.
le Due de Nemours, who has just come from beyond the
mountains, and brings news of M. le Due de Cruise and his
brave army of Italy. ' '

III

CONSTABLE AND CARDINAL

TWO hours after the scene we have described, the spec-
tators having appeased their private or official emo-
tion, congratulations having been tendered to Gabriel
de Lorges, Comte de Montgomery, and to Jacques of Savoy,
Due de Nemours, the two saviors of the king, on the cour-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 225

age and address displayed by them on the occasion, and the
quarry — a matter whose importance even the gravest affairs
did not permit to be neglected — having been disposed of in
the great court of the chateau, in the presence of the king,
queen, and all the lords and ladies staying at Saint- Ger-
main, Henri II., with a smiling countenance, as was natural
in the case of one just escaped from imminent death, and
who feels the fuller of life and health on account of the very
greatness of the peril — Henri II. , we say, entered his cabi-
net, where, besides his ordinary councillors, the Cardinal de
. Lorraine and the Connetable de Montmorency were awaiting
him.

We have already mentioned the Connetable Montmo-
rency ; but we have neglected to do for him what we have
done for the other heroes of our tale — that is to say, to ex-
hume him from the tomb and make him stand up before our
readers, like that great Connetable de Bourbon who was
carried by his soldiers, after his death, to a painter, in order
that a portrait of him might be painted standing all armed,
as if he had been alive.

Anne de Montmorency was, then, the head of that old
family of Christian barons of France, as they were entitled,
sprung from Bouchard de Montmorency, and which has
given ten constables to the realm.

He was called, and so styled himself, Anne de Montmo-
rency— Duke, Peer, Marshal, Grand-Master, Constable, and
First Baron of France; Knight of Saint- Michael and of the
Garter; Captain of the king's hundred orderlies; Governor
and Lieutenant- General of Languedoc; Comte de Beaumont,
Dammartin, La Fere-en-Tardenois, and Chateaubriant ; Yi-
comte de Melun and Montreuil; Baron d'Amville, Preaux,
Montbron, Offemont, Mello, Chateauneuf, Rochepot, Dangu,
Meru, Thore, Savoisy, Gourville, Derval, Chanceaux,
Rouge, Aspremont, and Maintenay; Seigneur d'Ecouen,
Chantilly, L' Isle- Adam, Conflans-Sainte-Honorine, Nogent,
Yalmondois, Compiegne, Gandelu, Marigny, and Thourout.

As may be seen from this nomenclature of titles, the

226 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

king might be king in Paris, but Montmorency was duke,
count, and baron all around Paris; so that royalty itself
seemed imprisoned in his duchies, counties, and baronies.

Born in 1493, he was, at the period we have reached, an
old man of sixty-four who, though looking his age, had the
strength and vigor of a man of thirty. Violent and brutal,
he had all the rough qualities of the soldier — blind courage,
ignorance of danger, insensibility to fatigue, hunger, and
thirst. Full of pride, swollen with vanity, he yielded to
none but the Due de Guise, and to him only as a prince of
Lorraine, for as a general he believed himself the superior
of the defender of Metz and the conqueror of Eenty.

In his eyes Henri II. was the little master ; the great mas-
ter had been Frangois I., and he declined to recognize any
other. An eccentric courtier and a man of tenacious ambi-
tion, he gained advantages tending to increase his wealth
and power by his brutality and insolence, which another
could only have obtained by suppleness and adulation.
Moreover, Diane de Yalentinois aided him very much in his
schemes ; seconding the violent old trooper with her gentle
voice and look and countenance, she smoothed down all the
antipathies his vehemence created, and without her help he
would not have succeeded. He had been already in four
great battles, and in each had done the work of a vigor-
ous man-at-arms, but in none that of an intelligent leader.
These four battles were, first, that of Kavenna; he was then
sixteen years old, and followed, as an amateur and for his
own pleasure, the general standard in the capacity of volun-
teer. The second was that of Marignano. There he com-
manded a company of a hundred men-at-arms, and he would
have been able to boast that the most vigorous strokes were
given by his sword and mace, had he not had near him, and
often in front of him, his great master Frangois I. — that hun-
dred-handed giant, as he might be called in a certain sense,
who would have conquered the world, if the world was to
be conquered by him who struck the strongest and dough-
tiest blows. The third was that of La Bicoque, where he

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 227

was colonel of the Swiss, and where he handled the pike and
was left for dead. In fine, the fourth was that of Pavia.
He had then become Marshal of France by the death of M.
de Chatillon, his brother-in-law. Not suspecting that the
battle was to take place the next day, he set out during the
night to make a reconnoissance ; hearing the roar of the can-
non, he returned, and was taken "with the rest," says Bran-
tome. And, in fact, at that disastrous defeat of Pavia, every
one was taken, even the king.

Unlike M. de Guise, who had the strongest sympathies
of the bourgeoisie and the men of the robe, he detested the
bourgeois and execrated the lawyers. He let no occasion
slip of giving a piece of his mind to both of them. It hap-
pened that the president of a court came to speak to him
one very hot day on the subject of his office. M. de Mont-
morency received him with his cap in his hand, and said —

"Come, M. le President, say what you have to say at
once, and in the meantime cover yourself."

But the president, believing it was to do him honor that
Montmorency remained uncovered, replied —

' ' Monsieur, I cannot think of covering myself until you
do the same. ' '

"Why, you must be a consummate fool, monsieur!" said
the constable. "Do you really fancy I have taken off my
cap through love of you? No; it has been for my own
ease, my friend, seeing that I am dying of the heat. Go on;
I am listening. ' '

At which the president, all confused, could do nothing
but stammer. Thereupon said Montmorency to him —

' ' You are an idiot, M. le President ! Go home and learn
your lesson ; then return, but not before. ' '

And he turned on his heel.

The people of Bordeaux having revolted and killed their
governor, the constable was sent against them. They,
knowing he was coming and that the reprisals would be
terrible, went a two days' journey to meet him, carrying
the keys of the city.

228 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

But he addressed them, fully armed and on horseback :
"Begone, Messieurs of Bordeaux," he said — "begone, you
ami your keys! I have no need of them." And, pointing
to the cannons, "There are my keys; they will open your
city in a different fashion from the way you open it. Ah,
I'll teach you to rebel against the king and kill his governor
and lieutenant! You may stake your faith, I'll have every
one of you hanged!"

And he kept his word.

At Bordeaux, M. de Strozzi, who had manoeuvred his
troops the evening before in his presence, came to pay his
respects to him, although a relation of the queen. As soon
as Montmorency saw him, he exclaimed:

"Ha! good- day, Strozzi! your fellows did wonders yes-
terday, and they made a really fine sight; they shall have
their money, therefore, to-day. I have ordered it. ' '

"Thanks, M. le Connetable," replied Strozzi; "I cannot
tell you how delighted I am to find you are satisfied with
them, for I have a petition to make to you on their part. ' '

' ' What is it, Strozzi ? Say on ! "

"They say that wood is awfully dear in this city, and
the sums they are paying for it during the present severe
cold are actually ruining them; they beg you to give them
a ship, called the 'Montreal,' which is beached on the
strand and of no further use, so that they may break
it up and warm themselves."

"Why, of course I will!" said the constable; "let them
set about the thing at once, break it up and warm them-
selves as well as they can, for it is my pleasure. ' '

But while he was at dinner, the aldermen and councillors
of the city came to him. Whether Strozzi had seen badly,
or had been deceived by the report of the soldiers, or had
but little acquaintance with ships old or new, the one whose
demolition he asked for was still capable of making many a
prosperous voyage. These worthy magistrates came, there-
fore, to represent to Montmorency what a pity it would be
to cut up so fine a vessel, which had so far only made two

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 229

or three voyages, and was registered at three hundred
tons.

But the constable interrupted them in his customary tone
before they were half-way:

"Good! good! And pray who are you, you idiots, to
venture to prescribe to me ? You must think yourselves
no small people when you dare to thus utter a remonstrance
in my presence. If I acted rightly — and I don't know what
is keeping me from doing it — I should send and have your
houses pulled to pieces instead of the ship; and if you are
not out of this in a jiffy, it's just what I shall do. Go home
and mind your own business; don't meddle with mine!"

And the same day the ship was broken up.

During the intervals of peace, the great anger of Mont-
morency was exercised on the ministers of the Eeformed
religion, for whom his hatred was ferocious. One of his
relaxations was to go into the temples of Paris and hunt
them from their pulpits; and, having one day discovered
that they were holding a consistory with permission of the
king, he made his way to Popincourt, entered the assembly,
overturned the pulpit, broke all the benches and made a
great bonfire of them ; this expedition won him the surname
of Captain Brule- Banes.

And all these brutalities were accomplished by the con-
stable while mumbling his prayers, and especially the Lord's
Prayer, which was his favorite, and which he combined in
the most grotesque fashion with the barbarous orders he
gave and never revoked.

Misfortune was abroad when he began in some such way
as this:

"Our Father who art in heaven (Go and hang that fellow
at once /), hallowed be Thy name (String yon other fellow up
to that tree!). Thy kingdom come (Let that rascal run the
gantlet of the pikes!). Thy will be done on earth (Have
those scoundrels shot immediately!), as it is in heaven. (Cut
in pieces all those knaves who dared to hold the tower against
me /) Give us this day our daily bread (Burn me yonder

230 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

village), and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those
who have trespassed against us! (Set fire to the four corners,
and let not one house escape /) And lead us not into tempta-
tion (If the clowns cry out against it, fling them into the fire
also!), but deliver us from evil. Amen!"

This was called the Pater-Nosters of the constable. Such
was the man Henri II. found, on entering his cabinet, seated
in front of the keen, crafty, aristocratic Cardinal de Lor-
raine, the most courteous of high-born churchmen and the
shrewdest statesman of his time.

It is easy to understand that these two natures, so ab-
solutely contrary to each other, must constantly come in
collision, and must give great trouble to the state by their
ambitious rivalries.

And the more so that Montmorency 's family was almost
as numerous as that of Guise, the constable having had by
his wife, Madame de Savoie, daughter of Messire Rene,
bastard of Savoy and Grand- Master of France, five sons —
MM. de Montmorency, d'Amville, de Me*ru, de Montbron,
and de Thore, and five daughters, of whom four were mar-
ried to MM. de la Tremouille, de Turenne, de Yentadour
and de Candale, the fifth and most beautiful of all becoming
Abbess of Saint- Pierre de Rheims.

Now all these illustrious people had to be well established
— a subject on which the grasping constable was meditating
when the king entered.

On perceiving Henri, all rose and uncovered.

The king saluted Montmorency with a friendly and al-
most soldier-like gesture, while he bowed to the cardinal
with every appearance of deference.

"I have summoned you, gentlemen," he said, "for the
subject on which I have to consult you is grave. M. de
Nemours has arrived from Italy, where affairs are turning
out badly, owing to the failure of his Holiness to keep his
word, and the treason of most of our allies. Everything, at
first, succeeded wonderfully. M. de Strozzi captured Ostia;
it is true we lost in the trenches of the city M. de Montluc

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 231

brave and worthy gentleman, for whose soul, gentlemen,
I ask your prayers. Thereupon, .the Duke of Alba, knowing
the near arrival of your illustrious brother, my dear cardi-
nal, retired to Naples. All the places in the neighborhood
of Borne were, in consequence, successively occupied by us.
In effect, after crossing the Milanese, the duke advanced
to Eeggio, where his father-in-law, the Duke of Ferrara,
awaited him with six thousand infantry and eight hundred
cavalry. There a counsel was held between Cardinal Caraffa
and Jean de Lodeve, ambassador of the king. One party
was of opinion that Cremona or Pavia ought to be attacked,
while Marechal de Brissac was holding the enemy in check;
the other represented that, before either could be occupied,
the Duke of Alba would have doubled his army by raising
levies in Tuscany and the kingdom of Naples. Cardinal
Caraffa was of a different opinion : he proposed entering the
march of Ancona through the Terra di Lavoro, all whose
fortresses, being badly fortified, would, he said, surrender at
the first summons ; but the Duke of Ferrara insisted, on the
other hand, that the defence of the Holy See being the prin-
cipal object of the campaign, the Due de Cruise should march
straight on Rome. The Due de Guise decided for the latter
course, and wished to take with him the six thousand in-
fantry and eight hundred cavalry of the Duke of Ferrara,
who refused, saying he might be attacked at any moment
by the Grandduke Cosmo de Medicis or by the Duke of
Parma, who had just joined the Spaniards. M. de Guise,
gentlemen, was then obliged to continue his march with the
few troops left him, having no hope except in the contingent
which, according to Cardinal Caraffa, was to join the French
army at Bologna. Arrived at Bologna with the cardinal,
his nephew, the duke looked in vain for this contingent. It
did not exist. Your brother, my dear cardinal, complained
loudly; but Caraffa answered that he was going to look up
ten thousand men lately levied in the march of Ancona.
The duke tried to believe in this promise, and continued
on his way through the Komagna. No reinforcement came

232 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

to him ; lie left our army there under the command of M.
d'Aumale, and proceeded to Eome directly, to learn from
the Holy Father himself what he intended to do. The Pope,
driven to the wall by M. de Cruise, replied that he agreed,
indeed, to have a contingent of twenty-four thousand men
for this war, but that among these twenty -four thousand
were comprised the soldiers holding the strong places of
the Church; now those thus employed numbered eighteen
thousand. M. de Cruise saw he could only reckon on the
men he had with him; but, according to the saying of
the Pope, these men ought to be enough, as the French
had never failed, up to this time, in their enterprises on
Naples, except when they had the Sovereign Pontiff against
them. Now this time, instead of being against them, the
Sovereign Pontiff was with them ; and, thanks to this moral
and spiritual co-operation, the French were sure to succeed.
M. de Cruise, my dear constable, is a little like you in this
respect: he never doubts of his fortune when he has his
good sword by his side, and a few thousand brave men
behind him. He hastened the coming of his army ; and as
soon as it joined him, he marched out of Eome, attacked
Campli, carried it by storm, and put all, men, women and
children, to the sword."

The constable received the news of this execution with
the first visible sign of approbation he had given.

The cardinal remained impassive.

"After Campli," continued the king, "he laid siege to
Civitella, which is, it appears, built on a craggy hill, and
well supplied with fortifications. He began by battering
down the citadel; but before a practicable breach could
be made, our soldiers, with their usual impatience, risked
an assault. Unfortunately, the place they tried to force was
defended on all sides by bastions; our army was repulsed
with the loss of two hundred killed and three hundred
wounded. ' '

A smile of joy broke over the lips of the constable; the
invincible hero had failed before a shed.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 233

"Meanwhile," the king went on, "the Duke of Alba had
gathered his troops together at Chieti, and now marched to
the succor of the besieged with an army of three thousand
Spaniards, six thousand Germans, three thousand Italians,
and three hundred Calabrians. It was more than double
the number possessed by the Due de Guise. This inferi-
ority determined the duke to raise the siege and meet the
enemy in the open plain between Fermo and Ascoli. He
hoped the Duke of Alba would accept the battle offered
him ; but the Duke of Alba, sure that we should be ruined
in any case, simply occupied the country, and would accept
neither battle nor encounter except in positions that left us
no chance of success. In this situation, without hopes of
obtaining from the Pope either men or money, M. de Guise
sends M. de Nemours to me to ask a considerable reinforce-
ment, or leave to quit Italy and return. What is your opin-
ion, gentlemen ? Should we make one last effort, and send
our well-beloved duke the men and money he absolutely
needs, or recall him, and, by recalling him, renounce our
claims to that fair kingdom of Naples, which, on the prom-
ise of his Holiness, we had intended for our son Charles?"

The constable made a gesture, as if to ask leave to speak,
while at the same time indicating that he was ready to give
way to the Cardinal de Lorraine; but the latter, by a slight
motion of the head, gave it to be understood he might
speak first.

It was, for that matter, the usual tactics of the cardinal
to let his adversary speak first.

"Sire," said Montmorency, "my opinion is that we must
not abandon an affair so well begun, and that your Majesty
should omit no effort to support your army and your general
in Italy. ' '

"And you, M. le Cardinal?" said the king.

"As for me," said Charles de Guise, "I must ask M.
de Connetable to excuse me, but my opinion is absolutely
opposed to his. ' '

"That is no surprise to me, M. le Cardinal," answered

234 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Montmorency, bitterly. ' ' It would have been the first time
we agreed, were it otherwise. So you think, monsieur, your
brother ought to return?"

"It would be, I believe, good policy to recall him."

"Alone or with his army?"

"With his army to the last man!"

"And why so? Do you think there are not enough of
bandits prowling already on the highways ? I happen to
know there is a regular harvest -of them. ' '

"There are perhaps bandits enough prowling on the
highways, M. le Connetable — there is perhaps a regular
harvest of them, as you say; but we have no harvest of
brave soldiers and great captains."

"You forget, M. le Cardinal, that we are in full peace,
and, being in full peace, we can do without your sublime
conquerors. ' '

"I beg your Majesty to ask M. le Connetable," said the
cardinal, turning to the king, "if he believes seriously in
the duration of peace."

"Morbleuf if I believe in it," said the constable — "a nice
question that!"

' ' Well, I am so far from believing in it, ' ' said the cardi-
nal, "that I think if your Majesty does not wish to let the
King of Spain have the glory of attacking you, you should
at once attack the King of Spain. ' '

"In spite of the truce solemnly sworn?" cried the con-
stable, with such ardor that one would have believed in his
sincerity. "But do you forget, M. le Cardinal, that it is a
duty to keep one's oath ? that the word of a king ought to
be more inviolable than any other word, and that France has
never been a recreant to her good faith, even when dealing
with Turks and Saracens?"

"But then, if this is so," asked the cardinal, "why has
your nephew, M. de Chatillon, instead of remaining quiet
in his government of Picardy, attempted to surprise and
scale the walls of Douai, in which he would have succeeded
but for an old woman passing, by chance, near the place

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 235

where the ladders were planted, who gave the alarm to
the sentinels?"

"Why has my nephew done that?" said Montmorency,
at once falling into the snare. "I am just going to tell
you why he has done that."

"We are listening," said the cardinal.

Then, turning to the king, with a marked purpose in his
accent, he said —

"Listen, Sire."

"Oh, his Majesty knows it as well as I do, mordieu!"
said the constable; "for though he appears entirely taken
up with his loves, have the goodness to learn, M. le Car-
dinal, that we do not leave him entirely ignorant of state
affairs."

"We are listening, M. le Connetable," returned the car-
dinal, coldly; "you were about to tell the reason why M.
1'Amiral made the attack on Douai."

"The reason! I could give you ten instead of one,
mordieuf"

"Give them, M. le Connetable."

"First," replied the latter, "the attempt made by Comte
Megue, governor of Luxembourg, through the agency of his
maitre d' hotel, who corrupted three soldiers of the garrison
by a present of a thousand crowns in hand and promise of a
pension of the same amount, for which they were to deliver
up the city. ' '

"The city which my brother has so gloriously defended;
it is true," said the cardinal, "we have heard of that at-
tempt, which, like your nephew's, has happily failed. But
this makes only one excuse, and you have promised us ten,
M. le Connetable."

"Oh, wait. Are you not yet aware that this Comte
Megue suborned a Provengal soldier of the garrison of
Marienbourg, who, in return for the large sum given him,
engaged to poison the wells of the fortress, and that the
enterprise only failed because Comte Megue did not think
a single man sufficient for the job, and the others he tried

236 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

to deal with discovered the conspiracy. You will not say
the thing is false, M. le Cardinal, for the soldier was broken
alive on the wheel. ' '

"That would hardly be a reason for convincing me.
You have, during your lifetime, M. le Connetable, broken
on the wheel and hanged not a small number of people
whom I consider as innocent and as much martyrs as those
whom the Eoman emperors named Nero, Commodus, and
Domitian sent to die in their circuses. ' '

"Mordieu! M. le Cardinal, would you perchance deny
this enterprise of Comte Megue on the wells of Marien-
bourg?"

"On the contrary, M. le Connetable, I told you I ad-
mitted it. But you promised us ten excuses for the enter-
prise of your nephew, and we have only two so far. ' '

' ' You shall have them, mordieu ! you shall have them !
Are you ignorant, for example, that Comte Berlaimont,
intendant of the finances of Flanders, made a plot with
two Gascon soldiers and got them to pledge themselves,
with the help of Sieur de Yeze, captain of a company of
foot in the king's service, to deliver the city of Bordeaux
to the King of Spain, provided they were seconded by five
or six hundred men ? You just say no to this fresh plot of
the Catholic king, and I shall answer that one of these two
soldiers, arrested near Saint- Quentin by the governor of
the place, confessed everything, and acknowledged that he
had even received the reward promised in the presence
of Antoine Perrenot, Bishop of Arras. Come now, M. le
Cardinal, say no! mordieu, say no!"

UI have not the slightest intention of doing so," replied
the cardinal, smiling, "seeing that it is the truth beyond
doubt, M. le Connetable, and I do not care to expose my
soul to peril by such a lie. But this only makes three in-
fractions of the treaty of Vaucelles by his Majesty the King
of Spain, and you have promised us ten. ' '

"Oh, I can easily furnish you ten, or a dozen if you
want them ! For instance, has not Maitre Jacques de Fleche,

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 237

one of King Philip's best engineers, been caught sounding
the fords of the Oise, and conducted to La Fere, where he
confessed that Emmanuel Philibert, Duke of Savoy, had
ordered M. de Berlaimont to pay him money for drawing
the plans of Montreuil, Roye, Doullens, Saint- Quentin, and
Mezieres — places the Spaniards want to seize — in order to
control Boulogne and Ardres and prevent the revictualling
of Marienbourg?"

"All this is perfectly correct, M. le Connetable, but we
are not yet near the ten. ' '

' ' Eh, mordieu ! do we require ten in order to see that the
truce has, in reality, been broken by the Spaniards, and that
if my nephew, M. 1'Amiral, has made an attempt on Douai,
he had a perfect right to do so ?"

' ' And I have no intention of asking you to say anything
further, M. le Connetable ; those four proofs are enough to
show me that the truce has been broken by Philip II. Now,
the truce being broken, not once, but four times, it is the
King of Spain who violates his word by breaking the truce,
and not the King of France who will violate his by recalling
from Italy his army and general and preparing for war. ' '

The constable bit his white mustaches; the crafty spirit
of his adversary had just made him confess the opposite of
what he had meant to say.

But "the cardinal had hardly ceased speaking, and the
constable biting his mustaches, when the sound of a trumpet
playing a foreign air was heard in the courtyard of the
chateau of Saint- Germain.

"Oh, oh!" said the king, "what mischievous page is
that, lacerating my ears with an English air ? Go and find
"out, M. de 1' Aubespine, and let the little rascal have a sound
whipping for his merry pranks. ' '

M. de 1' Aubespine went out to execute the orders of
the king.

Five minutes after, he returned.

"Sire," said he, "it is neither page, equerry, nor
whipper-in who has played the air in question; it is an

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

English, trumpeter accompanying a herald sent you by
Queen Mary."

Scarcely had M. de 1'Aubespine finished these words,
when the trumpet sounded again, this time playing a
Spanish air.

"Ah!" said the king, "after the wife, the husband, it
would seem. ' '

Then, with that majesty which all those old kings of
France knew how to assume so well when the occasion
needed —

"Messieurs," he said, "to the throne-room! Warn our
officers, as I shall the court. Whatever be the message
our cousin Mary and our cousin Philip may send us, it is
necessary to do honor to their messengers. ' '

IV

WAR

THE sounds from the English and Spanish trumpets
had re-echoed, not only in the hall of council, but
throughout the entire palace, being, as they were,
a sort of double echo from the North and from the South.

The king found, therefore, that the court was already
pretty well informed of the condition of things; all the
ladies were at the windows, and eyes were fixed curiously
on the two heralds and their suite. At the council door,
the constable was met by a young officer sent him by his
nephew Coligny — the same Coligny we saw entering the
room of Charles V". on the evening of his abdication.

The admiral was, as we have already said, governor of
Picardy; he would therefore, in case of invasion, be the
one first exposed to attack.

"Ah, it is you, Th&igny !" ' said the constable, in a low
voice.

1 This Theligny was no relation of the kinsman of Coligny of the same
name killed in the massacre of Saint-Bartholomew.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 239

"Yes, monseigneur, " replied the young officer.

"And you bring news of the admiral?"

"Yes, monseigneur."

"Have you seen or spoken to any one on the subject,
so far?"

' ' The news is for the king, monseigneur, ' ' answered the
young officer; "but I have been directed to communicate
it to you first."

' ' Very well, ' ' said the constable ; ' ' follow me. ' '

And just as the Cardinal de Lorraine had led the Due
de Nemours to the apartments of Catherine de Medicis, so
the constable led M. de Theligny to those of Madame de
Valentinois.

But, in the meantime, the reception was being held.

At the end of a quarter of an hour, the king — having the
queen on his right, all the great officers on the steps of
the throne ; around him, seated in armchairs, Madame Mar-
guerite and Madame Elisabeth of France, Mary Stuart, the
Duchesse de Yalentinois, the four Marys; in fine, the entire
brilliant court of the Valois — the king gave orders for the
English herald to be introduced.

Long before he made his appearance, the jingling of his
spurs and of those of the men-at-arms forming his escort
was heard in the antechambers. At last he crossed the
threshold, clad in the tabard with the English arms em-
broidered on it, and advanced with his head covered, stop-
ping within ten steps of the throne. There he uncovered,
and, putting one knee to the ground, said in a loud
voice :

"Mary, Queen of England, Ireland, and France, to Henri,
King of France, greeting ! Because you have given aid and
comfort to the English Protestants, enemies of our person,
religion and state, and because you have promised them
succor an'd protection against the just prosecutions of which
they are now the object, we, William Norry, declare war
against you on land and sea, and as a sign of defiance, we
throw here the glove of battle."

240 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

And the herald flung at the feet of the king his iron
gauntlet, which resounded harshly on the floor.

"It is well," replied the king, without rising. "I accept
this declaration of war; but I wish the whole world to know
that I have kept the good faith due to our mutual good
friendship ; and, since it is her pleasure to attack France for
so unjust a cause, I hope, through the favor of God, that
she will gain no more by her action than her predecessors
have done when they have attacked mine. For that matter,
I speak to you mildly and civilly, because it is a queen who
sends you; if it were a king, I would speak to you in a
different tone."

And, turning to Mary Stuart —

"My gentle Queen of Scotland," he said, "as this war
concerns you not less than me, and as you have quite as
many rights to the crown of England as my sister has to that
of France, if not more, pick up, I pray you, that glove, and
make a gift to the brave Sir William Norry of the gold
chain around your neck, which the Duchesse de Yalentinois
will be good enough to replace by the chain of pearls she
has on hers. I, in turn, shall replace in such manner that
she shall not suffer too much loss thereby. Go! To pick
up a woman's glove, a woman's hands are needed!"

Mary Stuart rose, and, with all her exquisite grace, un-
fastened the chain from her neck and flung it round that
of the herald; then, with that lofty air that so well became
her countenance —

"I pick up this glove," she said, "not only in the name
of France, but also in the name of Scotland ! Herald, tell
my sister Mary what I have said. ' '

The herald stood up, bent his head slightly, and, step-
ping back to the left of the throne, said —

' ' It shall be done according to the desires of King Henri
of France and Queen Mary of Scotland. ' '

"Introduce the herald of our brother Philip II.," said
the king.

The same jingling of spurs was heard, announcing the

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 241

approach of the Spanish herald, who entered still more
haughtily than had his colleague; and, all the time twist-
ing his Castilian mustaches, he approached within ten steps
of the king, and said, without bending the knee, contenting
himself with a slight inclination of the head —

"Philip, by divine clemency, King of Castile, Leon,
Granada, Navarre, Aragon, Naples, Sicily, Majorca, Sar-
dinia, the isles, Indias, and lands of the ocean; Archduke
of Austria; Duke of Burgundy, Lothier, Brabant, Lim-
bourg, Luxembourg, and Guelders: Count of Flanders and
Artois; Marquis of the Holy Empire; Seigneur of Fries-
land, Salins, Malines, the cities and countries of Utrecht,
Overyssel, and Groeningen; Sovereign in Asia and Africa;
to you, Henri of France, we make known that because
of the assault made on the city of Douai, and the pillage of
the city of Sens, both having been by the orders and under
the direction of your governor of Picardy, and because we
regard the truce sworn between you and us at Vaucelles
as broken, we declare war against you on land and sea ; as
gage of which defiance, in the name of my said king, prince
and lord, I, Guzman d'Avila, herald of Castile, Leon, Gra-
nada, Navarre, and Aragon, fling here my glove of battle. ' '

And, ungloving his right hand, he flung the glove inso-
lently at the feet of the king.

Then the deeply tanned and manly face of Henri II. be-
came pale, and in a somewhat altered tone he replied :

"Our brother Philip II. anticipates us, and therefore we
have some reason to reproach him ; but he would have done
better, since he has so many personal grievances against us,
to have made of this quarrel a personal quarrel. We would
have very willingly answered for our acts face to face and
body to body, and the Lord God would then have judged
between us. Tell him, however, Don Guzman, that we ac-
cept with the utmost confidence the war which he declares
against us; but I should be far more pleased still, if he were
to arrange a meeting between me and him instead of one be-
tween our two armies. ' '

242 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

And as the constable touched his arm meaningly —

' ' And you will add, ' ' continued Henri, ' ' that when I made
this proposal, my good friend, M. de Montmorency, touched
my arm, because he - knows there is a prophecy that I shall
die in a duel. Well, at the risk of the fulfilment of that
prophecy, I persist in the proposal, although I have no
doubt that this prediction will give sufficient confidence
to my brother to induce him to accept. M. de Montmo-
rency, I pray you, as Constable of France, to pick up the
glove of Ring Philip."

Then to the herald —

' ' Stay, my friend, ' ' he said, taking a bag placed behind
him for the purpose, and full of gold, "it is far from here
to Valladolid; and as you have come hither to bring us
such good news, it is not fitting that you should spend
your master's money or your own on the route. Take,
therefore, these hundred crowns of gold to defray the ex-
penses of your journey."

' ' Sire, ' ' replied the herald, 4 ' my master and I belong to
a country where gold grows, and we have only to stoop
to pick it up."

And, saluting the king, he took a step backward —

"Ah, proud as a Castilian!" murmured Henri. "M. de
Montgomery, take that sack and make largess of what it
contains through the window."

" Montgomery took the sack, opened the window, and
threw the gold to the lackeys in the court, who received
it with joyous hurrahs.

"Gentlemen," continued Henri, rising, "there is always
high festival at the court of France when a neighboring
sovereign declares war on its king; there shall be double
festival this evening, since we have received declarations
of war at the same time from a king and a queen."

Then, turning to the two heralds who were standing, the
one on his left, the other on his right —

"Sir William Norry, Don Guzman d'Avila," said the
king, "seeing that you are the causes of the festival, you

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 243

'are, as representing King Philip, my brother, and Queen
Mary, my sister, invited to it of right."

"Sire," whispered the constable to Henri, "would it
please you to hear the fresh news from Picardy, brought
from my nephew by a lieutenant of the dauphin's regiment
named Theligny?"

"Yes, indeed," said the king. "Bring him to me; he
shall be welcome."

Five minutes afterward, the young man was led into the
chamber of arms, and, bowing respectfully before the king,
waited until the latter should address him.

"Well, monsieur," said the king, "what news do you
bring of the health of M. 1'Amiral?"

"As far as that goes, excellent, sire; never has M.
1'Amiral been stronger."

"Then may (rod keep him so, and all will be well!
Where did you leave him?"

"At La Fere, sire."

"And what news did he charge you to transmit to me?"

"Sire, he has charged me to tell your Majesty to prepare
for a serious war. The enemy has assembled more than fifty
thousand men, and M. 1'Amiral believes that all his preced-
ing attempts have been only a false demonstration to conceal
his real plans."

"And what has the enemy been doing up to now?"
asked the king.

"The Duke of Savoy, who is commander- in-chief, " re-
plied the young lieutenant, "has advanced as far as Grivet,
accompanied by Count Mansfield, Count Egmont, the Duke
of Aerschott, and the principal officers of his army, where
the general rendezvous of the hostile forces was estab-
lished."

"I have learned as much through the Due de Nevers,
governor of Champagne," said the king; "he even added,
in his despatches on the subject, that he believed Emmanuel
Philibert aimed principally at Rocroy and Mezieres; and,
believing Eocroy, which has been only lately fortified,

(H)_Yol. 20

244 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

was in bad condition to sustain a siege, I recommended tlie
Due de fevers to see if it would not be better to abandon
it. Since that time I have had no news of him. "

"I bring some to your Majesty," said Theligny. "Sure
of the strength of the place, M. de Nevers shut himself up
in it, and, sheltered behind its walls, has so well received
the enemy that after several skirmishes, in which he lost
a few hundred men, he has forced him to retire across the
ford of Houssu, between the village of Nismes and Haute-
roche; from thence the enemy took his way by Chimay,
Grlayon, and Montreuil-aux-Dames; passed by La Chapelle,
which he pillaged, and Yervins, which he reduced to ashes;
in fine, he has advanced as far as G-uise, and M. 1'Amiral
has no doubt it is his intention to besiege that place, in
which M. de Yasse has shut himself up. ' '

"What troops does the Duke of Savoy command?"
asked the king.

' ' Flemish, Spanish, and German troops, sire ; very nearly
forty thousand foot and fifteen thousand horse. ' '

' ' And how many can M. de Chatillon and M. de Nevers
dispose of?"

"Sire, were they to unite all their forces, they could
hardly dispose of eighteen thousand infantry, and from
five to six thousand cavalry; without reckoning that,
among the latter, are fifteen hundred or two thousand
Englishmen, whom it would be necessary to distrust, in
case of war with Queen Mary. ' '

"So that, considering the number of men we shall be
forced to leave as garrisons in the cities, twelve or fourteen
thousand men are the most we -shall be able to give you, my
dear constable," said Henri, turning to Montmorency.

"Well, be it so, sire; with the few you give me I shall
do my best. I have heard that a famous general of antiq-
uity, named Xenophon, had only ten thousand soldiers un-
der his orders when he accomplished a magnificent retreat
of a hundred and fifty leagues; and that Leonidas, King
of Sparta, commanded at most a thousand men when he

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 245

arrested for eight days, at Thermopylae, the army of King
Xerxes, which was, however, far more numerous than that
of the Duke of Savoy. ' '

"So you are not discouraged, my dear constable?" said
the king.

' ' Quite the contrary, sire ! And, mordieu ! I have never
been so joyous and of such good hope. I only want to find
a man who can give me some information as to the state
of Saint-Quentin. "

"Why so, constable?" asked the king.

"Because with the keys of Saint-Quentin the gates of
Paris are opened, sire; it is an old proverb. Do you know
Saint-Quentin, M. de Theligny?"

"No, monseigneur; but if I dared — "

"Dare then! dare, mordieu! the king permits you. "

"Well, then, M. le Connetable, I have with me a kind
of groom given me by M. 1'Amiral, who, if he wishes, can,
I fancy, give you some information on the state of the
city."

"What! if he wishes!" cried the constable. "He shall
wish, you may be certain. ' '

"Without doubt," said Theligny, "he will not dare to
refuse answering the questions of M. le Connetable, only,
as he is a very shrewd rascal, he may answer them after his
own fashion."

"After his own fashion? You'll find his own fashion
will be after mine, M. le Lieutenant."

"Ah! that is just the point on which I would beg you
not to make any mistake. He will answer after his own
fashion, and not after yours; seeing that as you, mon-
seigneur, do not know Saint-Quentin, you cannot tell
whether he is speaking the truth or not."

"If he does not speak the truth, I shall have him
hanged. ' '

' ' Yes ; it is a means of punishing him, but not of utiliz-
ing him. Believe me, M. le Connetable, he is an adroit,
cunning fellow, very brave when he wishes —

246 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"How, when he wishes? He is not brave at all times,
then?" interrupted Montmorency.

"He is brave when others are looking on, and when they
are not looking on, if it is his interest to fight. One can't
expect anything more of an adventurer. ' '

"My good constable," said the king, "he who wishes
the end wishes the means. This man may render us some
services. M. de Theligny knows him; let M. de Theligny
conduct the inquiry. ' '

"Be it so," said the constable; "but I assure you, sire,
I have a way of talking to people —

"Yes, monseigneur, " replied The'ligny, smiling, "we
know your way, and it has its good side; but with Master
Yvonnet, it would have the effect of sending him to the side
of the enemy on the first opportunity; and he could render
them all the services against us which he can now render us
against them. ' '

"To the side of the enemy, morbleu! to the side of the
enemy, sacrebleu!" shouted the constable. "Why, in that
case, he ought to be hanged at once. He is a cutthroat, a
bandit, a traitor then, this groom of yours, M. de Theligny. ' '

"He is an adventurer quite simply, monseigneur."

"Oh, oh! and my nephew makes use of such rascals ?"

"War is war, monseigneur," rejoined Theligny, laughing.

Then, turning to the king —

' ' I place my poor Yvonnet under the safeguard of your
Majesty, and ask that, whatever he may say or do, I may
bring him back with me as safe and sound as I have
brought him hither."

"You have my word," said the king; "go and fetch
your groom."

' ' If the king permit, ' ' replied Theligny, ' ' I shall content
myself with making a sign to him, and he will come up."
' "Do so."

Theligny opened a window looking on the park, and
beckoned to some one.

Five minutes afterward, Master Yvonnet appeared at the

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 247

threshold of the door, clad in the same cuirass of buffalo,
the same maroon- velvet jacket, the same boots, in which we
have already presented him to the reader.

He held in his hand the same cap adorned with the same
plume.

Only everything was two years older than then. A cop-
per chain, which was once gilt, was hanging from his neck
and playing sportively on his breast.

The young man only needed a glance to show him with
whom he had to deal, and doubtless he recognized M. le
Connetable or the king, or perhaps both, for he kept him-
self respectfully near the door.

"Come forward, Yvonnet; come forward, my friend,"
said the lieutenant, "and know you are in presence of his
Majesty Henri II. and of M. le Connetable, who, on ac-
count of the way~I have extolled your merits, have desired
to see you. ' '

To the great stupefaction of the constable, Master Yvon-
net did not appear the least astonished in the world at his
merits gaining him such an honor.

"I thank you, lieutenant," said Yvonnet, taking three
steps and then halting, half through distrust, half through
respect; "my merits, small though they be, are at the feet
of his Majesty and at the service of M. le Connetable. ' '

The king noticed the difference the young man placed
between the homage rendered to the royal majesty and the
obedience offered to M. de Montmorency.

Without doubt, this difference also struck the constable.

"All right!" he said; "no phrases, my fine fellow! An-
swer squarely, or if not — "

Yvonnet darted a glance at Theligny which meant, "Do
I run any danger, or is it an honor they are doing me ?"

But, strong in the king's promise, Theligny took hold of
the interrogatory.

"My dear Yvonnet, the king knows you are a gallant
cavalier," he said; "very much admired by the ladies, and
that you devote to your toilet all the revenues your intelli-

248 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

gence and courage can procure. Now, as the king desires
to put your intelligence to the test at once, and your cour-
age later on, he charges me to offer you ten golden crowns
if you consent to give him, as well as to M. le Conneta-
ble, some positive information respecting the city of Saint-
Quentin."

"Would you have the goodness to tell the king, lieuten-
ant, that I am a member of an association of honest persons
who have all sworn to distribute among the members half
their several gains, whether acquired by dint of intelligence
or of force ; so that of the ten crowns offered me, five would
belong to me only, the other five being the property of the
association. ' '

"And what hinders you from keeping the ten, idiot,"
retorted the constable, ' ' and saying nothing of the good for-
tune that falls to your share ?"

"My word, M. le Connetable. We are too small people,
we are, to venture on breaking it. ' '

"Sire," said the constable, "I distrust strongly those
people who do things only for money. ' '

Yvonnet bent low before the king.

"I ask your Majesty's leave to say two words. "

"Well, upon my word! This rascal /has — '

"Constable," said the king, "I beg you —

Then smiling —

' ' Speak, my friend, ' ' said he to Yvonnet.

The constable shrugged his shoulders, took three steps
backward, and began to walk backward and forward, like
a man who does not care to take part in the conversation.

"Sire," said Yvonnet, with a respect and grace that
would have done honor to a refined coiirtier, "I beg your
Majesty to remember that I have not fixed any price on
the services which I can and ought to render to you as your
humble and obedient subject; it was my lieutenant, M. de
Theligny, who spoke of ten crowns of -gold. Your Majesty
being unaware most certainly of the association existing be-
tween me and my eight comrades, all equally in the service

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 249

of M. 1'Amiral, I thought it my duty to mention that, while
thinking you were .giving me ten crowns of gold, you were
giving me five only, the other five being for the association.
Now that your Majesty deigns to question me, I am ready
to answer, and that without there being any question of five
or ten or twenty crowns of gold; but purely and simply on
account of the respect, obedience, and devotion I owe my
king."

And the adventurer bowed before the king with as much
dignity as if he had been the ambassador of an Italian prince
or a count of the Holy Empire.

"Nothing could be better!" said the king; "you are
quite right, Master Yvonnet. Let us not reckon before-
hand and you will find yourself not the worse for it."

Yvonnet smiled in a fashion which meant, "Oh, I know
with whom I am dealing. ' '

But as all these little delays irritated the impatient tem-
per of the constable, he turned again to the young man,
and, tapping the floor with his foot, said —

"Look here now, as all your conditions are arranged,
will you be so kind as to tell me what you know of Saint-
Quentin, you scoundrel?"

Yvonnet looked at the constable, and, with a roguish
expression belonging only to the Parisian, said —

" Saint- Quentin, monseigneur? Saint- Quentin is a city
situated on the river Somme, six leagues from Fe~re, thirteen
from Laon, and thirty-four from Paris; it has twenty thou-
sand inhabitants, a corporation composed of twenty -five mu-
nicipal officers — namely, a mayor in office, a mayor who has
just held office, eleven aldermen, and twelve councillors;
these magistrates elect and appoint their own successors,
which they select among the bourgeois, in virtue of a de-
cree of the parliament dated the 16th of December, 1335,
and of a charter of King Charles VI. dated 1412."

"Ta, ta, ta!" cried the constable, "what the devil is that
imp of misfortune dinning us with ? I ask you what you
know of Saint-Quentin, beast?"

250 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"Well, I have told you what I know, and I can guaran-
tee to you the correctness of my information ; I have it from
my friend Maldent, who is a native of Noyon, and spent
three years in Saint- Quentin as attorney's clerk."

"Hold, sire," said the constable, "believe me, we shall
get nothing out of this knave, until we have him on a good
wooden horse, with four balls of twelve pounds tied to
each leg."

Y vonnet remained impassive.

"I am not precisely of your opinion, constable. I be-
lieve we shall get nothing out of him, as long as we try
to force him to speak; but I believe we shall learn all we
want to know by leaving him to M. de Theligny. If he
knows what he has told us — just the things he could not
be expected to know — you may be sure he knows some-
thing else besides. Is it not true, Master Yvonnet, that you
have studied not only the population, geography, and con-
stitution of the city of Saint- Quentin, but that you are also
acquainted with the condition of its ramparts and the dispo-
sition of its inhabitants?"

' ' Should my lieutenant wish to interrogate me, or should
the king do me the honor to address me the questions to
which he desires an answer, I shall do my best to satisfy
my lieutenant and to obey the king. ' '

' ' The rascal is all honey now ! ' ' murmured the constable.

"Come now, my dear Yvonnet, " said Theligny, "prove
to his Majesty that I have not deceived him when I praised
your intelligence so highly, and describe to him, as well as
to M. le Connetable, the condition of the ramparts at the
present moment."

Yvonnet shook his head.

' ' Would not one imagine that the knave knows all about
it!" growled the constable.

"Sire," replied Yvonnet, without paying any attention
to the sneer of Montmorency, "I have the honor to tell your
Majesty that the city of Saint- Quentin, ignorant that it runs
any danger whatever, and consequently not having pre-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 251

pared any means of defence, is hardly secure from a sudden
assault. ' '

"But then," asked the king, "has it not ramparts?"

"Yes, undoubtedly," answered Yvonnet — "ramparts
strengthened by round and square towers connected by
curtains with two bastions, one of which defends the sub-
urb of 1'Isle; but the boulevard has not even parapets, and
is protected only by a fosse dug in front. Its ground-plan,
which does not rise above the surrounding lands, is com-
manded in many places by hills in the neighborhood, and
even by houses situated on the border of the exterior fosse ;
and on the right of the Guise highway and the gate of 1'Isle,
the old wall — it is the name of the rampart at that point —
is so low that a man, be he ever so inactive, could easily
scale it."

"But, you scoundrel!" cried the constable, "if you are
an engineer, you should say so at once ! ' '

"I am not an engineer, M. le Connetable. "

"What are you, then?"

Yvonnet lowered his eyes with affected modesty.

"Yvonnet is in love, monseigneur, " said Theligny; "and
to reach the fair enslaver who dwells in the Faubourg d'Isle,
he has been obliged to study the strong and weak points of
the walls. ' '

"Ah," murmured the constable, "a nice reason that,
indeed!"

"Well, then, continue," said the king, "and I shall give
you a fine gold cross as a present for your mistress the first
time you see her on your return. ' '

' ' And never cross of gold will have shone on a lovelier
neck than Grudule's. I may say so with confidence,
sire. ' '

"And now this base villain is actually making the por-
trait of his mistress for us!" said the constable.

' ' And why not, if she is pretty, my cousin ? You shall
have the cross, Yvonnet. ' '

"Thanks, sire."

252 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"And now is there a garrison, at least, in the city of
Saint-Quentin?"

"No, M. le Connetable. "

"No!" cried Montmorency, "and how is that?"

"Because the city is, by its charter, exempt from mili-
tary occupation, and its defence is confided to the bourgeois
themselves — a right they hold to extremely. ' '

' ' The bourgeoisie and their rights indeed ! Sire, believe
me, things can never go well as long as the bourgeoisie and
the communes claim rights nobody knows of what kind, de-
rived from nobody knows whom ! ' '

' ' From whom? I am going to tell you, my cousin, from
the kings, my predecessors."

"Well, if your Majesty will only intrust me with the
task of taking back all these rights from the bourgeoisie,
you may rely on it, the things shall be done quickly
enough. ' '

"We shall take thought of this later on, my dear con-
stable. The Spaniards require all our attention at present.
We should have a good garrison in Saint-Quentin."

' ' The admiral was negotiating for that very purpose at
the time I left," said Theligny.

"And he must have succeeded by this time," said
Yvonnet, "considering that he had Maitre Jean Pauquet
on his side."

"Who is Maitre Jean Pauquet?" demanded the^king.

"Gudule's uncle, sire," replied Yvonnet, with an accent
that was not exempt from a certain imbecility.

"What, you knave!" cried the constable, "do you make
love to a magistrate's niece?"

"Jean Pauquet is not a magistrate, M. le Connetable,"
replied Yvonnet.

"And what, then, is this Jean Pauquet of 3^ours?"

' ' The syndic of all the weavers. ' '

"Jesus!" exclaimed Montmorency, "what in the world
are we coming to! Compelled to negotiate with a syndic
of weavers, when it is the king's good pleasure to place

^ THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 253

a garrison in one of his cities. You will tell your Jean
Pauquet that I intend to have him hanged if he does not
open, not only the gates of the city, but the doors of the
houses as well, to whatever men-at-arms I choose to send
there."

"I think it would be quite as well if you let M. 1'Amiral
manage the business, M. le Connetable," said Yvonnet,
shaking his head; "he knows better than you, monseigneur,
the way to talk to people like Jean Pauquet. ' '

' ' I really think you are arguing with me, ' ' said Mont-
morency, with a threatening gesture.

"Cousin, Cousin," said Henri, "let us, pray, finish the
business we have begun with this brave fellow. You will
have it in your power to judge of the truth of his state-
ments, since the army will be under your command, and
you are to join it as soon as possible.1'

"Oh!" said Montmorency, ltnot later than to-morrow!
I am in a hurry to bring all these bourgeois to their senses.
A syndic of weavers, mordieu ! a fine personage to negotiate
with an admiral! Peuh!"

And he went to the embrasure of one of the windows
and began gnawing his nails.

"Now," asked the king, "are the approaches to the city
easy?"

"On three sides, yes, sire; on the Faubourg d'Isle side,
the Kemicourt side, and the chapel of Epargnemaille side;
but on the Tourival side it is necessary to cross the Gros-
nard marshes, which are full of places where you have no
chance once you sink. ' '

The constable had approached to listen to this detail,
which interested him.

"In case of need, would you undertake," he said, "to
guide across the rnarsh a body of troops that could enter
or leave the city?"

"Doubtless; but I have already told M. le Connetable
that Mai dent, one of our associates, would do his business
better, having lived three years in Saint- Quentin, while

254 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

I have gone there only at night, and then by the speediest
route. ' '

"And why speediest?"

"Because when I am alone at night, I am afraid."

"How!" cried Montmorency, "you are afraid?"

' ' Certainly, I am afraid. ' '

"And you confess it, you rascal?"

"Why not, since it is true?"

"And what are you afraid of?"

"I am afraid of the will-o'-the-wisps, the ghosts, and the
loups-garoux. "

The constable burst out laughing.

"Ah, you are afraid of the will-o'-the-wisps, the ghosts,
and the loups-garoux?"

"Oh, yes, I am horribly nervous!"

And the young man shivered.

"Ah, my dear Theligny," said Montmorency, "I com-
pliment you on your squire! I am warned; I don't care
to have him for a night guide."

' ' In fact, it would be better to employ me by day. ' '

"And leave you the night to see your Grudule, eh?"

"You see, monseigneur, that my visits have not been
useless, and the king thinks as much, since he has gra-
ciously promised me a cross. ' '

"M. de Montmorency, let forty gold crowns be given to
this young man for the excellent information he has afforded
us and the service he has offered to render. You will add
ten crowns besides to buy a cross for Mademoiselle Gudule. ' '

The constable shrugged his shoulders.

"Forty crowns!" he grumbled; " forty lashes of a whip !
forty strokes of a cane! forty blows of the butt- end of a
halberd on his shoulders!"

"You hear me, cousin; my word is pledged. Do not
make me break my word."

Then to Theligny—

"M. de Theligny," continued the king, "the constable
will give orders to have you supplied with horses from my

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 255

stables at the Louvre and Compiegne, so that you may
march as quickly as possible. Do not be afraid of laming
them, and try to reach La Fere before to-morrow. M. de
Chatillon cannot be warned too soon that war is declared.
A good journey, monsieur, and good luck!"

The lieutenant and his squire saluted the king respect-
fully and followed the constable.

Ten minutes afterward they were galloping on the road
from Paris, and the constable went back to the king, who
had not left his cabinet.

IN WHICH THE READER FINDS HIMSELF AGAIN IN A
COUNTRY HE KNOWS SOMETHING OF

HENRI II. was waiting for the constable, in order to
give orders of the highest importance without any
delay.

M. de Montgomery, who had, some years before, led
French troops to the aid of the regent of Scotland, was
sent to Edinburgh to ask that, in pursuance of the treaty
signed between that kingdom and France, the Scotch should
declare war on England, and that the lords composing the
council of the regency should send to France ambassadors
empowered to conclude the marriage between the young
Queen Mary and the dauphin.

At the same time an instrument was drawn up with the
consent of the Guises, by which Mary Stuart transmitted
to the King of France her realm of Scotland and all the
rights she had or might have over that of England, in case
she died without male heir.

As soon as the marriage was celebrated, Mary Stuart
was to take the title of Queen of France, Scotland, and
England. Meanwhile, the triple arms of France, Scotland,

256 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

and England were engraved on tlie plate of the young
sovereign.

In the evening, as the king had said, there was a splen-
did fete in the chateau of Saint- Germain, and the two
heralds on their return to their respective princes might
tell in what joyous fashion declarations of war were received
at the court of France.

But before the first window of the chateau was illumi-
nated, two cavaliers, mounted on magnificent steeds, were
galloping out of the courts of the Louvre, and, after gain-
ing the Barriere de la Villette, dashed along the La Fere
highway.

At Louvres, they stopped a moment to breathe their
horses, which they changed at Compiegne, as had been
agreed on; after which, in spite of the advanced hour of
the night and their want of rest, they resumed their journey
and started at a gallop for La F&re, which they entered at
eight in the morning.

Nothing fresh had occurred since the departure of
Theligny and Yvonnet.

Short as was the time the latter had spent at Paris, he
had found an opportunity to renew his wardrobe at the shop
of a ready-made clothier of his acquaintance, who did busi-
ness in the Eue Pretres Saint-Germain 1'Auxerrois. The
jacket and maroon breeches had then given place to doublet
and hose of green velvet embroidered with gold, and a
cherry-colored cap adorned with a white plume. A sash
of the same color as the cap was wrapped round him, with
the ends stuffed into boots that were almost irreproachable,
armed with gigantic copper spurs. If his new garb was not
quite fresh, it had at least been so little worn and by so
careful an owner that only persons of very bad taste would
make any uncalled for remarks on it or perceive that it
came from a ready-made outfitter's, and not from a tailor's
workshop. As to the chain, Yvonnet concluded, after deep
thought, it had still enough gilding on it to deceive those
looking at it from a distance of a few yards.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 257

It was his lookout to see that they had no nearer
view.

Let us hasten to add that the gold cross had been con-
scientiously purchased; only no one ever knew whether
Yvonnet had employed equally conscientiously the whole
of the ten crowns given him by Henri II. for that purpose,
in making the purchase for the niece of Jean Pauquet.

Our belief is that Yvonnet had clipped enough from that
cross to provide himself, not only with the doublet and
green velvet breeches, the cherry -colored cap and white
plume, the buffalo- leather boots and copper spurs, but also
with an elegant cuirass placed in a portmanteau on the croup
of his horse, and which rattled in quite a warlike fashion
with every motion of the horse.

But it must be said that, as all this had for aim to de-
fend or adorn his person, and as his person belonged to
Mademoiselle Gudule, the fact that Yvonnet thus used the
clippings of his mistress's cross would by no means show
that the money of King Henri II. had been turned from its
destination.

For that matter, he no sooner cleared the gate of La Fere
than he was able to judge of the effect produced by his new
outfit. Franz and Heinrich Scharfenstein were, in their
capacity as purveyors of the association, busy leading to
the camp an ox they had just acquired; and with that
instinct of self-preservation which makes animals object
to being butchered, the ox was refusing to proceed — as far
as in him lay; for Heinrich Scharfenstein was dragging him
by a horn, while Franz was pushing him behind.

At the noise of the horse's hoofs on the pavement, Hein-
rich raised his head, and recognizing our squire—

"Oh, Franz!" he cried, "only look at Meinherr Yvonnet;
isn't he beautiful?"

And in his admiration, he let go the horn of the ox,
which, profiting by his liberty, swung round, and would
have regained his stall, if Franz, who, as we have said, was
stationed in the neighborhood of the tail, had not seized

258 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

that member, and, stiffening all' his sinews, brought the
animal to a sudden stand by his herculean strength.

Yvonnet sent him a protecting salute with his hand, and
passed on.

They arrived at Coligny's quarters.

The young lieutenant was recognized, and entered the
cabinet of the admiral at once, followed by Yvonnet, who,
with his habitual tact and in spite of the change wrought
in his exterior, remained respectfully at the door.

M. de Chatillon, leaning over one of those imperfect
maps made at that period, was trying to complete it by the
information a man in front of him, with cunning features,
pointed nose, and intelligent eyes, was giving him.

This man was our friend the Picard Maldent, who, as
Yvonnet had said, having been an attorney's clerk in Saint-
Quentin for three years, knew the city arid its environs as
well as his writing-desk.

Coligny, at the noise made by Theligny on entering,
raised his head, and recognized his messenger.

Maldent gently turned his eyes toward the door, and
recognized Yvonnet.

The admiral offered his hand to Theligny; Maldent
exchanged a look with Yvonnet, who drew the strings
of the upper orifice of a purse from his pocket to indicate
that his journey had not been wholly unprofitable.

Theligny gave an account to Coligny in a few words of
his interview with the king and M. le Connetable, and
handed to the governor of Picardy the letters of his uncle.

"Yes," said Coligny, reading, "my opinion has been the
same as his: Saint- Quentin is, in fact, the city to be guarded
above all. So your company, my dear Theligny, has gone
there yesterday. You will join to-day even, and announce
my speedy arrival. ' '

And, absorbed in the information given him by Maldent,
he bent anew over the map, and continued his annotations.

Theligny knew the admiral — a man of deep and serious
thought, who must be let do what he was doing; and as,

I
THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 259

according to all probability, when his notes were finished,
Coligny would have further orders to give him with respect
to Saint- Quen tin, the lieutenant approached Yvonnet.

"Go and wait for me in the camp," he whispered, "I will
take you up on my way, when I have received the final in-
structions of M. 1'Amiral. "

Yvonnet bowed silently and went out. He found his
horse at the door, and in an instant was outside the city.

The camp of Coligny, placed first at Pierrepont near
Marie, had been afterward transported near La Fere. Too
weak to hold his ground in an open country with the fifteen
or eighteen hundred men he commanded, the admiral, fear-
ing a surprise, had gained the neighborhood of a fortified
city, believing that, small as his army was, it could make
a stand behind good walls.

The line of the camp passed, Yvonnet stood up on his
spurs to try if he could recognize any of his companions,
and find out where they had fixed their quarters.

Soon his gaze was attracted by a group, in the middle
of which was a man who looked like Procope, seated on
a stone and writing on one knee.

Procope had utilized his clerical knowledge; from the
moment it became certain that the enemy would be soon en-
countered, he was busy drawing up wills at five sous each.

Yvonnet understood that the quondam usher was like
M. de Coligny, and did not fancy being disturbed in his
grave occupation.

He cast another look around him, and perceived Franz
and Heinrich Scharfenstein, who, having given up the de-
sign of leading their ox to the camp, had tied its legs to-
gether, and were carrying it thither, with the help of the
pole of a carriage, the extremities of which rested on each
of their shoulders.

A man who was no other than Pilletrousse was making
signs to them at the door of a tent in rather good condition.

Yvonnet recognized the domicile in which he had the
right to a ninth part, and in a few seconds was beside Pil-

260 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

letrousse, who, before giving any sign of welcome to his
companion, walked round him once, then twice, then for
the third time, Yvonrtet, like the cavalier of an equestrian
statue, looking on with a smile of satisfaction as his com-
panion accomplished this circumambulation.

After the third turn, Pilletrousse halted, and with a
clacking of the tongue to denote his admiration —

"Peste!" said he, "that is a pretty horse, and well worth
forty gold crowns. Where the devil did you steal it ?"

"Hush!" said Yvonnet, "speak with respect of the ani-
mal; he comes from his Majesty's stables, and only belongs
to me as a loan. ' '

"That's rather annoying," said Pilletrousse.

"And why so?"

"Because I had a purchaser. "

"Ah!" returned Yvonnet, "and who was your pur-
chaser?"

"I," said a voice behind Yvonnet.

Yvonnet turned round and cast a quick glance upon the
person presenting himself with this haughty monosyllable,
which was to make the success of the tragedy of "Medea,"
a hundred years later.

The bidder for the horse was a young man of from
twenty-three to twenty-four years, half armed, half un-
armed, as was the fashion with men of war when in cam]).

Yvonnet needed only to let his eyes fall on those square
shoulders, on that head framed in a red beard and red hair,
on those clear blue eyes full of obstinacy and ferocity, to
recognize the speaker.

"You have just heard my answer," he replied. "The
horse, in reality, belongs to his Majesty the King of France,
who has had the goodness to lend it to me for my return to
the camp; if he claims it, I must of course give it back
to him; if he leaves it with me, it is at your disposal, the
price, it is unnecessary to say, being discussed and arranged
beforehand between us. ' '

"I admit the justice of what you say," replied the gen-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 261

tleman; "keep it for me, then. I am rich, and disposed to
be liberal."

Yvonnet saluted.

"Besides," continued the gentleman, "it is not the
only affair concerning which I should wish to treat with
you/'

Yvonnet and Pilletrousse saluted together.

"What is the number of your band ?"

"Of our troop, you mean, monsieur," retorted Yvonnet,
a little hurt by the epithet.

"Of your troop, if you like it better.11

"Unless in my absence some of my comrades have been
unfortunate, 1 ' answered Yvonnet, with a questioning glance
at Pilletrousse, "there ought to be nine."

A look of Pilletrousse reassured Yvonnet, even suppos-
ing that he was really anxious on the subject.

"And all brave ?" asked the gentleman.

Yvonnet smiled; Pilletrousse shrugged his shoulders.

"The fact is, you have a pretty sample there," said the
gentleman, pointing to Franz and Heinrich, "if these two
are members of your troop."

"They are," replied Pilletrousse, laconically.

"Then we can treat — "

"Pardon," said Yvonnet; "but we belong to M.
I'Amiral."

"Except on two days of the week, when we can work
on our own account," observed Pilletrousse. "Procope,
foreseeing the two cases, introduced these clauses into the
agreement: first, when we have some enterprise to under-
take on our own behalf; second, when some honorable gen-
tleman makes us a proposal of the kind the gentleman here
present seems disposed to make. ' '

"I only want you for a single day or for a single night;
so nothing could be better. Now, in case of need, where
shall I find you ?"

"At Saint- Quentin, probably," said Yvonnet; "I know
that I shall be there in person this very day. ' '

262 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"And two of us," continued Procope, "Lactance and
Malemort, are there already. As to the rest of the troop—

"As to the rest of the troop," interrupted Yvonnet,
"they are sure to follow us there, as, from what I heard
M. 1'Amiral say, he will be there himself in two or three
days."

"Well," said the gentleman, "at Saint- Quentin, my
braves ! ' '

' ' At Saint- Quentin, , mon sieur. ' '

The latter made a slight motion of the head and retired.

Yvonnet followed him with his eyes until he was lost in
the crowd; then, calling a vagabond who attended to the
wants of the associates, and received therefor his temporal
and spiritual nourishment, he threw him the reins of his
horse.

The first intention of Yvonnet had been to approach Pil-
letrousse, and make him a confidant of his reminiscences in
connection with the unknown; but, doubtless considering
him of too material an organization for the reception of a
secret of such importance, he drove back the words which
were already on the tip of his tongue, and appeared to be
giving his attention wholly to the work Franz and Heinrich
were accomplishing.

Heinrich and Franz, after having, as we have said, with
the help of the carriage-pole, which they had passed between
the four legs, brought their recalcitrant ox up to the middle
of the camp even, had deposited him in front of their tent.

Then Heinrich entered the tent to fetch his mace, which
he had some difficulty in finding, Fracasso, seized with a fit
of poetic inspiration, having thrown himself on a mattress,
in order to dream at his ease, and having made of this mace
a pillow to support his head.

This mace, simple in form and humble in material, was
merely a ball twelve pounds in weight fitted to an iron bar;
it was, with a gigantic two-handed sword, the usual weapon
of the two Scharfensteins.

Heinrich at last found it, and, in spite of the groans of

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 263

Fracasso, whom he came on in the full fire of composition,
he dragged it from under his head, and returned to join
Franz, who was waiting for him.

Hardly had Franz untied the forelegs of the ox, when
the animal made a sudden effort and half rose. This was
Heinrich's opportunity; he raised the iron mace until, bend-
ing backward, it touched his loins, and, with all his strength,
struck it between the two horns of the ox.

The animal, which had begun to bellow, stopped, and
fell as if thunderstruck.

Pilletrousse, who, with naming eyes and like a dog in
leash, was only awaiting the moment, rushed upon the
prostrate animal and opened the artery of the neck. After
which, he clove him from the lower lip to the opposite
extremity, and proceeded to cut him up.

Pilletrousse was the butcher of the association; Heinrich
and Franz, the purveyors, bought and killed the animal,
whatever it might be. Pilletrousse flayed it, divided it,
and laid apart the best pieces for the association ; in a sort
of stall at some distance from the common tent, adorned
with all the art of which he was a master, the different
pieces of which he wished to get rid. Now, Pilletrousse
was so adroit a carver, and so clever a merchant, that it
rarely happened but, during the two or three days of the
sale, he drew from this part of the animal a few crowns
more than it cost.

All this was to the profit of the association, which, as
may be seen, could not fare badly as long as it was seconded
by each of its members as it was by such of its members as
we have passed in review.

The cutting up was over, and the public sale was com- '
mencing, when a cavalier made his appearance in the midst
of the crowd which thronged around the stall of Maitre
Pilletrousse, and which was buying— each according to his
means — everything from the fillet to the tripes.

This cavalier was Theligny, who, having been furnished
with letters from the admiral for the mayor, the governor

264 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

of the city, and Jean Pauquet, syndic of the weavers, was
come in search of his squire Yvonnet.

He also brought news that as soon as M. de Coligny had
assembled the troops expected by him, and had spoken with
his uncle, M. le Connetable, he would set out with live or
six hundred men for Saint- Quentin.

Maldent, Procope, Fracasso, Pilletrousse, and the two
Scharfensteins would form part of the garrison, and would
join Malemort and Lactance in the city, who were there
already, and -Yvonnet, who, as he would start with M. de
Theligny, would be there in two or three hours.

The adieus were short, Fracasso not having yet finished
his sonnet, and seeking a rhyme for the verb perdre, which
he could not find; the two Scharfensteins, while very fond
of Yvonnet, being of a very undemonstrative nature; and,
in fine, Pilletrousse contenting himself with saying to the
young man, with a grasp of the hand, so busy was he with
his sale —

"Try to keep the horse!"

VI

SAINT-QUENTIN

AS YVONNET had said to M. le Connetable, it is six
leagues from La Fere to Saint- Quentin.
The horses had already made a long journey the
night before, and that without any other halt than an hour
spent at Noyon.

They had now had a rest of two hours, it is true; still,
as there was no occasion to hurry, except the desire of
Yvonnet to see Ghidule again, they spent_nearly three hours
in making the six leagues that separated them from the
term of their ride.

At last, after clearing the exterior boulevard, after leav-
ing on the right the Guise highway, which bifurcates a

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 265

hundred yards from the old wall, after, making themselves
known at the gate and plunging under the vault beneath
the rampart, the two cavaliers found themselves in the
Faubourg d'Isle.

"Monsieur, will you be kind enough to give me leave
for ten minutes," asked Yvonnet, "or would you like, by
turning aside a few steps, to get some news of what is
passing in the city?"

"Ah, ah!" laughed Theligny, "it would appear we are
in the neighborhood of Mademoiselle Gudule's dwelling?"

' ' You are right, monsieur, ' ' said Yvonnet.

"Is there any indiscretion in — ?" asked Theligny.

"Not the least in the world, " answered Yvonnet. "In
the daytime, I am a mere acquaintance of Mademoiselle
Grudule, exchanging a word and a salute with her. It has
always been my principle not to do anything to injure the
future prospects of fair young girls. ' '

And turning to the right, he advanced into a little lane,
bordered on one side by a long garden wall, and on the
other by several houses, one of which was pierced by a
window entirely framed in creeping plants.

Rising on his spurs, Yvonnet reached exactly to the
window, beneath which stood a pillar, calculated to give
pedestrians the same advantage, for love or business, which
Yvonnet derived from being on horseback.

The moment he arrived, the window was opened as if by
magic, and a charming face, all rosy with delight, appeared
in the midst of the flowers.

"Ah, it is you, Gudule!" said Yvonnet; "how did you
guess my arrival ?"

"I did not guess it; I was at my other window that looks
upon the road to La Fere. I saw two horsemen in the dis-
tance, and although it never occurred to me that you might
be one of them, I could not keep my eyes off these travel-
lers. When you came to a certain point I recognized you.
Then I ran here, all trembling with fear, for I dreaded
you might pass without stopping — first, because you were

266 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

not alone, and next, because you are so handsome I feared
you might have reached such fortune that you would think
of me no longer. ' '

"The person I have the honor to accompany, my dear
Gudule, and who has given me permission to converse
with yon a moment, is M. de Theligny, my lieutenant; he
will soon have some questions to put to you, as well as I,
on the state of the city."

Gudule cast a timid glance upon the lieutenant, who
made a gentle inclination to her, to which the young girl
replied by a "God preserve you, monseigneur!" uttered
with much emotion.

"As to the costume in which you see me, Gudule," con-
tinued Yvonnet, "it is the result of the king's liberality,
who has even, on learning that I had the happiness to know
you, deigned to charge me to present you, in his name, with
this fine gold cross."

And, at the same time, he drew the cross from his
pocket, and offered it to Gudule, who, hesitating to accept
it, cried —

"What are you talking about, Yvonnet? and why do
you make sport of a poor girl?"

"I do not make sport of you in any way, Gudule, and
here is my lieutenant, who will tell you that what I affirm
is the truth. ' '

"In fact," said Theligny, "I was present, my fair child,
when the king charged Yvonnet to make this present. ' '

"You are acquainted with the king, then?" asked Gu-
dule, quite astounded.

"Since yesterday, and since yesterday the king is ac-
quainted with you, Gudule, as well as with your worthy
uncle, Jean Pauquet, for whom my lieutenant has a letter
fromM. 1'Amiral."

The lieutenant made a further sign of assent; and Gu-
dule, who, as we have said, at first hesitated, now passed
her trembling hand through the flowers — a hand which
Yvonnet kissed as he placed the cross in it.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 267

Theligny, approaching, then said —

"And now, iny dear M. Yvonnet, will you please ask
Gudule where her uncle is, and in what disposition we are
likely to find him?"

' ' My uncle is at the Town Hall, monseigneur, ' ' said Gu-
dule, who could hardly keep her eyes away from the cross,
"and I think well disposed to defend the city."

' ' Thanks, my fair child. Come away, Yvonnet. ' '

Gudule made a little sign of entreaty, and blushing up to
the whites of her eyes —

"Then, monseigneur," said she, "if my father asks me
where this cross came from—"

"You may tell him it comes from his Majesty," returned
the young officer, smiling, who understood the alarm of Gu-
dule; "that it has been given by the king in recognition of
the good services which your uncle Jean and your father
Guillaume have rendered him and are still likely to render
him. In fine, if you do not wish — as is very possible — to
name M. Yvonnet, you will add that it is I, Theligny, lieu-
tenant in the company of the dauphin, who have brought
you this cross."

"Oh, thanks, thanks!" all joyous, and clapping her
hands together; "but for this, I would never dare to
wear it."

Then in quick low tones to Yvonnet —

"When shall I see you again?" she asked.

"When I was three or four leagues from you, Gudule,
you saw me every night," replied Yvonnet; "judge how
often you must see me when I am living in the same city. ' '

"Hush!" said Gudule.

Then lower still —

"Come early," she said; "I think my father will pass
the whole night at the Town Hall. ' '

She withdrew her head, and disappeared behind the
curtain of verdure and flowers.

The young men followed the causeway between the
Somme and the fountain La Ferree. Half-way on the route,

(12)— -Vol. 20

268 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

they turned from the abbey and church of Saint- Quentin-
en-Isle, and crossed the first bridge, which led to the chapel
in which the relics of the holy martyr were to be discovered,
then a second bridge, which brought them to the strait of
Saint- Pierre, and at last a third bridge which, after it was
cleared, placed them in front of the two towers flanking the
gate of Isle.

The gate was guarded by a soldier of Theligny's regi-
ment and by a bourgeois of the city.

This time Theligny had no trouble in getting himself
recognized; i-t was the soldier who came to him to ask him
for news. People were saying that the enemy was very
near; and this little company of a hundred and fifty men
found itself somewhat isolated in the midst of all these
bourgeois who were running right and left, frightened out
of their wits, and who were losing their time in discussions
at the meetings in the Town Hall — meetings at which there
was indeed much discussion, but very little action.

Besides this, Saint- Quentin seemed to be a prey to fright-
ful disorder. The principal artery — which cuts the city for
two-thirds of its length, and into which, like the affluents
of a great river, ran, on the right, the Eue Wager, the Eue
des Cordeliers, the Rue d'Issenghien, the Rue des Ligniers,
and on the left, the Rue des Corbeaux, the Rue de la Truie-
qui-file and the Rue des Brebis — was thronged with people;
and this multitude, become denser still on the Rue de la
Sellerie, was packed so close on the great square that, as
far as our cavaliers were concerned, it was like a wall
almost impossible to break through.

Still, when Yvonnet placed his cap on the end of his
sword, and standing in his stirrups, shouted, "Make way!
make way for the people of M. 1'Amiral!" the crowd,
hoping they were coming to announce a reinforcement,
made such violent efforts to open a path that at last the
two cavaliers were able to start from the church of Saint-
Jacques and reach the steps of the Town Hall, at the top
of which was the mayor, Messire Yarlet de Gibercourt.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 269

They had arrived at an opportune moment. A meeting
had just been held; and, thanks to the patriotism of the
inhabitants, roused to fury by the eloquence of Maitre Jean
Pauquet and his brother Gruillaume, it had been unani-
mously resolved that the city of Saint- Quentin, faithful to
its king and relying on its holy patron, would defend itself
to the last extremity.

The news brought by Theligny, that the admiral was
approaching with a reinforcement, raised the enthusiasm
to the very highest pitch.

The citizens, at the very moment and without leaving
the spot, organized themselves into companies which named
their own leaders. Each company contained fifty men.

The mayor opened the arsenal of the Town Hall; un-
fortunately it was very poorly furnished. Only fifteen
cannon were found in it, some in a very bad condition,
and fifteen ordinary arquebuses and twenty- one arquebuses
a croc ; but there was quite an abundance of halberds and
pikes.

Jean Pauquet was named captain of one of those com-
panies, and Guillaume, his brother, lieutenant in another.
So we see that honors were raining on this family, but these
honors were dangerous.

The sum total of the troops consisted then of a hundred
and twenty or a hundred and thirty men of the Dauphin's
Company, commanded by Theligny; a hundred men or
thereabout, of the company of M. de Breuil, governor of
Saint- Quentin, which arrived eight days ago from Abbeville,
and two hundred bourgeois organized into four companies
of fifty men each. Three of these companies were com-
posed of arbaletriers, pikemen, and halberdiers; the fourth
was armed with arquebuses.

Suddenly a fifth was seen to appear, which was not ex-
pected, and, because of its unexpected appearance and the
elements forming it, created boundless enthusiasm.

It arrived by the Eue Croix- Belle- Porte, and consisted
of a hundred Jacobin monks, all carrying pikes or halberds.

270 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

A man, covered with a robe, under which might be seen
a coat of mail, led them, with a naked sword in his hand.

Hearing the shouts raised as they passed, Yvonnet turned
round, and, looking attentively at their captain, "May the
devil burn me," he said, "if it is not Lactance!"

In fact, it was Lactance. Foreseeing that a tough strug-
gle was in prospect, he had retired among the Jacobins of
the Rue des hosiers, in order to do penance, and put him-
self, as far as possible, in a state of grace. The good fathers
received him with open arms, and Lactance, although wholly
devoted to the task of confessing and communicating, still
remarked their patriotism, and thought it would not be
a bad thing to utilize it. As a result of his cogitations, he
imparted to them, as an inspiration from heaven, the idea
that came to him of forming them into a military company;
the proposal was favorably received. The prior consented
to take an hour from Matins, and half an hour from Ves-
pers, and devote the time to drilling; and, at the end of
three days, Lactance, judging the monks sufficiently prac-
ticed in military manoeuvres, had drawn them from the
convent, and, as we have said, had led them to the square
of the Town Hall, amid the acclamations of the multi-
tude.

Saint- Quentin could therefore reckon, for the moment,
on a hundred and twenty men of the Dauphin's Company,
on a hundred men of the company of the governor of the
city, on two hundred bourgeois, and a hundred Jacobin
monks — in all, five hundred and twenty combatants.

Hardly had the mayor, governor, and the other magis-
trates of the city inspected their forces, when loud cries rose
from the ramparts, and people were seen arriving along the
Rue de 1'Orfeverie and the Rue Saint- Andre, who were
lifting their arms to heaven in a despairing fashion.

After numberless inquiries and questions, it was learned
that an immense number of peasants had been seen running
along the plain which stretches from Homblieres to Mesnil-
Saint-Laurent, pushing through the harvest fields, and ex-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 271

tdbiting, as far as could be judged at the distance they were
still from the city, undoubted evidences of terror.

That very moment the gates were ordered to be closed,
and the ramparts manned.

Lactance, who, in the thick of dangers, always preserved
the coolness of a true Christian, immediately ordered his
Jacobins to harness themselves to the cannon, and plant
eight of them on the wall extending from the gate of Isle
to the tower of Dameuse, two on the wall of the Vieux-
Marche, three on the wall between the Grrosse Tour and
the postern of the Petit Pont, and two on the old wall
at the Faubourg d'Isle.

Theligny and Yvonnet, who were on horseback, and
who felt that, in spite of their terrible ride of the evening
before, their steeds were still sound in wind and limb, issued
forth through the Eemicourt gate, forded the river, and
dashed across the plain to learn what was the cause of the
flight of all these people.

The first individual they met was supporting his nose
and a part of his cheek with his right hand, trying, as well
as he could, to keep these two precious objects in their
place, and, at the same time, making eager signs with his
right to Yvonnet.

Yvonnet rode toward him, and recognized Malemort.

"Ah!" howled the latter, with all the strength of his
lungs, "to arms! to arms!"

Yvonnet redoubled his pace, and, seeing his comrade
streaming with blood, he jumped to the ground, and ex-
amined his wound.

It would have been terrible from the ravages it would
have made on a virgin countenance; but the face of Male-
mort had been so terribly carved already that a gash more
or less did not count.

Yvonnet made four folds of his handkerchief, with a hole
in the centre to give passage to the nose of Malemort;
then, having laid the patient on the ground and placed the
wounded head on his knee, he bandaged the face so lightly

272 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

and so adroitly that the ablest surgeon could not have done
better.

During this time Theligny was picking up information.
This is what had happened:

In the morning the enemy appeared in sight of Origny-
Sainte-Benoite. Malemort, who happened to be there, hav-
ing, with his usual instinct, scented that there would be
a good many blows struck in that quarter, had excited the
inhabitants to resistance. They had consequently retired
into the castle with all the arms and war supplies they
could gather. There they held out for nearly four hours.
But the castle, being attacked by the whole van of the
Spanish army, was carried by assault. Malemort did won-
ders; however, it became at last necessary to retreat.
Pressed too closely by three or four Spaniards, he stabbed
one, knocked down another; but while he was attacking
the third, the fourth struck at his face sidewise, making an
awful gash a little below the eyes. Malemort, understand-
ing how impossible it was to defend himself with a wound
that blinded him, gave a loud cry, and fell backward, as
if he had been suddenly killed. The Spaniards searched
him, and took three or four sous parisis, which he happened
to have about him, and went back to their companions,
who were engaged in a more profitable kind of plundering.
Thereupon Malemort rose, set back his nose and cheek in
their natural places, did his best to keep them there with his
hand, and directed his course to the city to give the alarm.

And this was why Malemort, ordinarily the first to attack
and the last to retreat, found himself this time, contrary to
all his habits, at the head of the fugitives.

Theligny and YVonnet had learned all they wanted to
learn. Yvonnet took Malemort up behind him, and all
three entered the city, crying, "To arms!"

The entire city was awaiting their return. In an instant
it was known that the enemy was only four or five leagues
distant; but such was the resolution of the inhabitants that
this news, so far from depressing, stimulated them.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 273

Luckily, among the men brought by M. de Breuil were
found fifty gunners ; to them were assigned the fifteen can-
non drawn by the Jacobin brothers to the ramparts. Three
attendants were required for each; the monks offered to
complete the batteries, and were accepted. After an hour's
practice, a spectator would have fancied they had never
done anything else in their lives.

It was time, for at the end of an hour the first Spanish
columns came in sight.

The Town Council resolved to send a courier to the
admiral to warn him of the situation; but no one wished
to leave the city at the moment of danger.

Yvonnet proposed Malemort.

Malemort uttered loud cries: since his wound was at-
tended to, he felt, he said, much livelier than ever before;
it was fifteen months since he had a real good fight. The
blood was choking him, and the little he had lost was a
great relief to him.

But Yvonnet observed to him that he would have a
horse; that he would be allowed to keep this horse; that
in two or three days he would return in the suite of Coligny,
and that, thanks to this horse, he would be able, during the
sorties that would take place, to advance further than if he
was on foot.

This last consideration decided Malemort.

We may add that, in addition to this, Yvonnet had that
influence over Malemort which weak, nervous natures always
have over powerful ones.

Malemort mounted horse, and galloped in the direction
of La Fere.

Those who remained behind might be tranquil; at the
gait the adventurer rode at, the admiral would be warned
in less than an hour and a half.

Meanwhile, the gates were thrown open to receive the
poor inhabitants of Origny-Sainte-Benoite, and all in the
city were eager in their offers of hospitality. Then persons
were sent into all the surrounding villages — Harly, Eemi-

274 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

court, La Chapelle, Eocourt, and Abbiette — to requisition
all the flour and grain that could be found in them.

The enemy advanced on an immense line, and on a depth
that led the garrison to fancy it would have to deal with the
entire Spanish, German and Walloon army; that is to say,
with fifty or sixty thousand men.

Just as when the lava descends from the crater of Etna
or Vesuvius, the houses crumble, and the trees are on fire
before the torrent of flame reaches them, so, in front of
all this black line which was advancing, houses might
be seen disappearing in a blaze, and villages in a state
of conflagration.

The entire population gazed on this spectacle from the
height of the rampart of Eemicourt, from the galleries of
the collegial church, which commands the city, from the
summit of the tower of Saint-Jean, from the Eed Tower,
and the tower of L'Eau; and at every fresh blaze a con-
cert of curses arose, and seemed, like to a cloud of ill-
omened birds, to take flight and settle down upon the
enemy.

But the enemy was advancing for all that, chasing away
the people before them, as the wind was chasing the smoke
of the conflagrations. During some time the gates of the
city continued to receive the fugitives; but they were soon
obliged to shut them, the enemy being so near.

And then the poor peasants belonging to the burning
villages might be seen trying to pass by the city, to find
a refuge at Vermand, Pontru and Caulaincourt.

Soon the drums beat again.

It was a signal for all non-combatants to quit the ram-
parts and the towers.

At last none remained along the entire line but the
combatants, silent and taciturn, as men always are when
gathered together to meet a danger.

The vanguard could now be perfectly distinguished. It
was composed of pistoliers, who, having crossed the Somme
between Eouvroy and Harly, spread swiftly over all the cir-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 275

cumference of the city, occupying the approaches to the gates
of Remicourt, Saint-Jean and Ponthoille.

Behind the pistoliers, three or four thousand men, who
might be recognized from the regularity of their march as
belonging to those old Spanish bands reputed to be the best
troops in the world, passed the Somme in their turn, and
marched in the direction of the Faubourg d'Isle.

"I have every reason to believe, my dear Yvonnet," said
Theligny, "that the music will begin on the side of the
house of your charmer. If you like to see how the tune
is played, come with me."

"Very willingly, lieutenant," said Yvonnet, who felt
those nervous shudders passing through his body which,
in his case, was always the sign of an approaching battle.

And, with lips closely pressed and cheeks slightly pale,
he proceeded toward the gate of Isle, where Theligny was
leading nearly the half of his men, leaving the rest to sup-
port the citizens and, at need, show them an example.

We shall see later on that it was the citizens who showed
the soldiers the example, instead of receiving it from them.

They arrived at the Faubourg d'Isle. Yvonnet got a
hundred steps in front, and had time to tap at the window
of Gudule, who ran up all in a tremble, and to advise the
young girl to descend into the lower apartments, seeing that
it was not unlikely the balls would play at shuttlecock with
the chimneys of the houses. He had not finished, when, as
if to support his words, a ball passed swiftly with a hiss,
and overturned a gable whose pieces fell like a shower of
aerolites around the young man.

Yvonnet leaped from the street on the post in front of
the house, clung with both hands to the sill of the window,
and, seeking amid the flowers for the trembling lips of the
young girl, imprinted a very tender kiss on them, and then
fell back into the street.

"Should any misfortune happen to me, do not forget me
too quick," said he; "and if you forget me, don't let it be
for a Spaniard or a German or an Englishman!"

276 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

And, without waiting for the assurance the young girl
was about to give that she would love him always, he took
his way to the old wall and found himself behind the para-
pet, a few steps from the spot he was accustomed to scale
during his nocturnal rambles.

As had been foreseen by Theligny, who did not, in fact,
arrive on the scene of battle until alter his squire, it was
there the music was beginning.

The music was noisy, and made the heads that heard
it bend more than once; but gradually the bourgeois, who
had at first supplied food for laughter to the soldiers, grew
accustomed to it, and then became more furious than the
others.

However, the Spaniards came on in such increasing num-
bers that the bourgeois were forced to abandon the exterior
boulevard, which they had at first attempted to defend, but
which, without a parapet, and commanded by the neighbor-
ing heights, soon became no longer tenable. Protected by
the two pieces of cannon, and by the arquebusiers of the old
wall, they accomplished their retreat in good order, leaving
three killed, but carrying off their wounded.

Yvonnet was dragging along a Spaniard, through whose
body he had passed his sword, and whose arquebuse he had
taken; but as he had not had leisure to take, at the same
time, the cartridges hanging from the baldrick of the dead
man, he was drawing him aside, hoping that his trouble
would not be lost, and that the pockets might be as well
furnished as the baldrick.

This confidence was rewarded: besides their three months'
pay, distributed to the Spaniards the evening before to give
them courage, each of them had appropriated a fair share of
plunder during the five or six days they held the country.
We cannot say whether Yvonnet 's Spaniard had appropri-
ated more or less than the others; but, after visiting his
pockets, Yvonnet appeared very well satisfied with what
he found there.

Behind the soldiers of Theligny and the bourgeois of the

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 277

city, the two Spanish leaders, named Julian Romeron and
Carondelet, took possession of the exterior boulevard, as
well as of all the houses lining the causeway of Guise and
of La Fere. These formed what was called the Haut Fau-
bourg; but when they tried to clear the space between the
exterior boulevard and the old wall, they were received
with such a well-directed fire that they had to regain the
houses, from the windows of which they continued firing
until the darkness of night put an end to the encounter.

It was only then that Yvonnet judged it proper to turn
round his head. Then, ten paces in his rear, he saw the
pale face of a charming young girl, who, under the pre-
tence of making sure that her father was there, had, in
spite of the prohibition, encroached on the ground of the
combatants.

liis eyes glanced from the young girl to his lieutenant.

"My dear M. Yvonnet," said the latter, "you have been
fighting or riding now two days ; you must be tired. Leave
to others, then, the task of watching on the ramparts, and
try to get a good, pleasant rest until to-morrow. You will
find me where there is firing. ' '

Yvonnet did not need to be told twice. He saluted his
lieutenant, gave a meaning glance at Gudule, and then
started for the causeway, as if intending to go into the
city.

But, mistaking his way, doubtless on account of the
darkness, he strayed into the suburbs; for, ten minutes
later, he was in that little lane, in front of that little win-
dow, and with one foot on that post from the top of which
so many things could be done.

What Yvonnet did was to cling to two little white hands,
which had quickly passed through that little window, and
drew him so skilfully and adroitly inside that it was easy
to see it was not the first time they were employed in this
exercise.

The things we have just related occurred on the 2d of
August, 1557.

278 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

VII

THE ADMIRAL KEEPS HIS WORD

AS MIGrHT easily be foreseen, Malemort made quickly
the six leagues that separated Saint- Quentin from
the camp of La Fere.

Before an hour and a half had elapsed, he was at the
door of M. 1'Amiral.

Although any one who witnessed the arrival of this man,
after such a headlong gallop, his clothes covered with blood,
his face with bandages, would have found it impossible to
recognize Malemort under a mask that concealed everything
but the eyes and mouth, yet it was easy to recognize in him
a messenger of bad news.

He was, therefore, on the very instant introduced to
Coligny.

The admiral was with his uncle; the constable had just
arrived.

Malemort related the capture of Origny-Sainte-Benoite,
the massacre of those who tried to defend the castle, the
burning of all the villages on the line of march of the
Spanish army, whose passage left a track of fire and smoke
behind it.

On the instant the uncle and nephew arranged their two
courses of action.

Coligny, with five or six hundred men, would set out at
once for Saint- Quentin, would shut himself up in the city,
and hold out to the last extremity.

The constable, with the rest of the soldiers in the camp,
would join the army of the Due de Nevers, whose force
amounted to only eight or nine thousand men, and who

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 279

was too weak, consequently, to attack the Spanish army,
amounting to more than fifty thousand, but would watch
and harass it, and be always ready to profit by its mis-
takes.

This little troop manoeuvred on the confines of the Lyon-
nais and the Thierache.

The admiral immediately ordered the signal to saddle to
be sounded, and the drums to beat the departure; but, in
accordance with the advice of Maldent, he decided to take
the road to Ham, instead of following the direct line. From
all he had learned, he gathered that the Spaniards would at-
tack Saint- Quentin by Re'micourt and the Faubourgs Saint-
Jean and d'Isle.

Consequently, on these three sides Coligny would find
an obstacle to his project.

The only road that, according to Maldent, would still
have a chance of being free was that from Ham to Saint-
Quentin, passing through marshes that were impracticable,
except for those knowing the paths through them.

Coligny took with him three bands of foot- soldiers.
These bands were commanded by Captains Saint- Andr£,
Kambouillet, and Louis Poy. But the third, which had
arrived from Gascony that very day, was so exhausted
that it had to stop on the road between Ham and La Fere.

Soon after the constable and the admiral left La Fere,
they found sitting on his haunches, in the middle of the
road, a huge black dog, which began howling with all his
might. When they chased him, he ran before them about
a hundred paces, sat down in the same fashion, and howled
more horribly than ever. Chased again, he a'cted in a simi-
lar way, his howls becoming stronger and more desperate
than before.

Then the constable, looking at M. de Coligny—

"What the devil do you think of this, nephew?" he
asked.

"Faith, I think the music is in no way pleasant, mon-
sieur, and I believe we are likely to play the comedy."

280 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"Yes, and perhaps the tragedy as well," replied the con-
stable. '

At this prediction both of them embraced, the admiral
continuing his way to Ham, the constable returning to La
Fere, which he left the same evening.

But another omen awaited the latter when he quitted
the city.

He had scarcely gone a league on the road to Laon,
when a kind of pilgrim, with a long beard and dressed in
a long robe, seized the reins of his horse, crying —

' l Montmorency ! Montmorency ! I announce to thee that
in three days all thy glory shall be in the dust!"

"Be it so," said the constable; "but I announce to thee
that before that thine shall be in the gutter ! ' '

And he gave him so rough a blow with his fist that the
poor prophet fell unconscious on the roadside, and had his
jaw broken.2

The constable went on his way, as did the admiral, each
carrying with him his fatal omen.

Coligny reached Ham about five in the evening. His
resolution was not to stop any time until he reached Saint-
Quentin. Therefore, after allowing his soldiers an hour's
rest, he resumed his march with his gendarmes and two
companies of infantry only.

At Ham, MM. de Jarnac and de Luzarches did all they
could to retain him, pointing out the services he could do
in the open country, and offering to go and shut themselves
up there in his stead; but he answered —

"I would rather lose everything I possess than not bring
to those brave people, who have shown such a good dis-
position to defend their city, the aid I promised them!"

And, as we have said, he set out, without a minute's
delay, at the hour he had appointed.

At the gates of Ham he met the Abbot of Saint- Prix.
He was a very noble prelate, named Jacques de la Motte;

1 "Memoires de Mergey," folio 250. 8 "Memoires de Melvil."

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 281

was at the same time canon of Saint- Quentin, Chartres,
Paris, and Le Mans ; he possessed, besides, two priories, and
when he died, he had been canon under five kings, begin-
ning with Frangois I.

Coligny, suspecting that the illustrious traveller came
from Saint- Quentin, went up to him; the warrior and the
churchman recognized each other.

When the first shots were fired at the gate of Isle, the
abbot quitted the city by the Faubourg de Ponthoille, and
was going with all speed to inform the king of the position
of Saint- Quentin, and ask for succor. So, as the admiral
had foreseen, the last road left open was the one he followed.

"M. 1'Abbe, " said the admiral to the prelate, "since you
are about to see the king, do me the favor to tell his Majesty
that you have this night met me at the head of a good troop,
and that I reckon, with (rod's help, to enter Saint- Quentin,
where I hope to do him good service. ' '

And, having saluted the abbot, he continued on his way.

A league further on he began to perceive the fugitives
of Origny-Sainte-Benoite and other villages nearer Saint-
Quentin, who, not finding a refuge in the city, had been
forced to fly beyond it. The poor creatures were worn out
with fatigue — some still limping along, still others lying at
the foot of trees, and dying of hunger and exhaustion.

The admiral distributed some help among them, and
then resumed his march.

Two leagues from Saint- Quentin, night overtook him;
but Maldent was there. He answered for the safety of
those who wished to follow him ; and, hoping there would
be a liberal reward at the end of the journey, he offered,
as a proof of his good faith, to march in front of the ad-
miral's horse with a rope about his neck.

The band of Captain Rambouillet agreed to take a path
pointed out to it; but Captain Saint- Andre declared he had
a good guide of his own, and asked to follow him.

No obstacle presented itself on the road to Saint- Quentin.
The city had not been entirely invested; one of its sides,

282 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

that of the Faubourg de Ponthoille, had been reserved for
the English army, which was likely to arrive at any mo-
ment, and it was exactly this side that the admiral was
approaching.

As a precaution, a view had been taken of the situation
of the city and of its besiegers from the height of Savy, and
it was perceived that the fires of the enemy extended only
from the chapel of Epargnemaille to within some distance
of Graillard; it almost looked as if a path had been expressly
opened for the little troop of the admiral.

This was the very point that troubled him ; he was afraid
of an ambuscade.

Procope, who, from his frequent conferences with Mai-
dent, had become familiar with the Picard dialect, offered
to reconnoitre.

The admiral accepted, and called a halt.

At the end of three-quarters of an hour the adventurer
returned; the road was perfectly free, and he was able to
approach so close to the rampart that he saw the sentinel
who was patrolling between the gate of Ponthoille and the
tower facing the Pre aux Oisons.

Then Procope whistled to the sentinel across the little
rivulet which at that period ran along the foot of the wall ;
the sentinel stopped, and tried to penetrate the darkness.

Procope whistled a second time, and, sure that he had
been seen, announced the approach of the admiral.

In this way the post at the gate of Ponthoille would be
warned, and the admiral introduced into the city immedi-
ately on his arrival.

Coligny praised highly the intelligence of Procope, ap-
proved of all he had done, and now resumed his march with
more confidence, guided still by Maldent.

At thirty yards from the gate a man rose from a fosse ;
he held a pistol in his han'd, ready to be fired, if, instead
of a friendly troop, the troop approaching was a hostile one.

Suddenly a long thick mass of shadow was noticed on
the ramparts; it was a hundred men, who had been sum-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 283

moned to this point in case the news given by Procope to
the sentinel might be a deception to conceal a surprise.

The man with the pistol, who had started up from the
fosse, was Lieutenant Theligny.

He advanced, saying —

' ' France and Theligny ! ' '

"France and Coligny I" replied the admiral.

The recognition was instantaneous ; and the promised re-
inforcement having arrived, the gates were thrown open.

The admiral and his hundred and twenty men entered.

At the same moment the report of his arrival spread
through the city; the inhabitants left their houses, half-
clad, shouting with joy. Many wished to illuminate ; some
had already begun.

The admiral ordered the shouts to cease and the lights
to be extinguished. He feared the enemy might be more
on the alert on account of this, and redouble their watch-
fulness. Besides, Saint- Andre and his troop had not yet
arrived.

At three o'clock in the morning there was no news of
them yet.

Then, as it was near daybreak, and it was of the utmost
importance that they should not fall in with any Spanish
troops, Lactance advanced with six or eight of his Jacobins.

The good fathers, whom their habit protected from all
suspicion, offered to scatter about the country for a radius
•of one or two leagues, and bring back the strayed com-
pany.

Their offer was accepted, and they set out, some by the
gate of Ponthoille, others by the Sainte- Catherine postern.

Between four and five in the morning a troop of sixty
men, led by two Jacobin fathers, made its appearance.

Then, toward six, a second troop of from fifty-five to
sixty arrived, also led by a monk.

'Captain Saint- Andr£ was with this second troop. The
guide had gone astray, and led the others astray with him.

The rest of the fathers arrived, one after another; and

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286 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

through, the admiral descended to the Town Hall. There
he ordered that he should be given a list of all men fit to
bear arms; that search be made for all the arms that might
still be in the city; that the names of all the workmen and
workwomen be taken down who could be employed at
the earthworks; that a perquisition should be made with the
view of gathering together all the tools, spades, shovels,
baskets, pickaxes, and such like; that an account should
be drawn up of all grain, flour, wines, cattle, provisions
of every sort contained in the public magazines as well as in
private houses, for the purpose of establishing some order
in the consumption and avoiding pillage. In fine, he de-
manded an exact account, not only of the artillery, but
also of the quantity of powder and balls, as well as the
number of men serving the cannon.

During the tour he had just made the admiral had seen
only two mills: a windmill situated at the end of the Eue
du Billon, near the Eed Tower, and a water-mill on the
Somme, at the foot of the Faubourg d'Isle. These two
mills were not enough for grinding the corn necessary
for the consumption of a city of twenty thousand in-
habitants.

He expressed his fears on this point. But the aldermen
at once reassured him, declaring there were fifteen or sixteen
hand-mills in the city which could be worked by horses,
and which, if kept going constantly, would suffice for the
nourishment of the city and garrison.

Then Coligny saw to the billeting of the soldiers, adopt-
ing the division of the city into four quarters, but sub-
dividing those quarters into sixteen parts, for the surveil-
lance of which he appointed sixteen citizens and sixteen
officers, all whose decisions were to be in concert. The
troops were assigned to the guard of the walls, conjointly
with the bourgeois militia, each body having to protect its
respective quarter. The Town Council was to sit perma-
nently, in order to be able to answer without delay to all
the requisitions addressed to it.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 287

In fine, the admiral presented to the corporation the
gentlemen forming what to-day we should call his staff,
who were to act as intermediaries between him and the
magistrates.

In addition to these officers Captain Languetot was
named superintendent of artillery j having at his disposal
ten men-at-arms to whom was assigned the mission of veri-
fying the quantity of powder employed by the cannoneers
each day, and who were particularly charged to watch that
this precious powder should be sheltered from all danger.

While going along the ramparts, Coligny remarked, near
the gate Saint- Jean, at hardly a hundred paces from the
wall, a large number of gardens filled with fruit-trees and
surrounded by lofty and dense hedges. These trees and
hedges offered to the enemy a cover that allowed him to
approach the ramparts.

As these gardens belonged to the chief persons of the
city, the admiral asked the council's consent to clear them:
this consent was given without any difficulty; and all the
carpenters of the city were at once set to work cutting down
the hedges and fruit-trees. Their branches were destined
for fascines.

Then, seeing the assembly of the same mind and same
spirit, nobles, bourgeois, and soldiers animated, if not with
the same enthusiasm, at least with the, same energy, Coligny
retired to the house of the governor, where he had appointed
a meeting of the officers of all the companies.

This house waS- situated in the Riie de la Monnaie, be-
tween the Templerie and the Jacobins.

The officers were informed of what had just been done.
The admiral spoke of the good spirit of the inhabitants,
and their resolution to defend themselves to the last ex-
tremity ; he urged them, by softening, as much as possible,
the hardships of the situation, to maintain cordial union
between those two powers so rarely in accord — the army
and the bourgeoisie.

Each captain had, besides, to furnish, on the spot, a

288 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

statement of the condition of his company, in order that
the admiral might know exactly the number of men he
could dispose of, and figure up how many military mouths
had to be fed.

Then, going up with an engineer to the gallery of the
Collegiate, he pointed out, from that elevated point, where
a view of the entire circumvallation of the city could be
embraced, the excavations that had to be filled up and the
elevations that had to be levelled down.

These orders having been given, and being alone with
the officer whom he intended sending to the constable to
obtain a reinforcement of troops, while it was still possible
to revictual the place, he decided that the Savy road, all
covered with vines and debouching through a chain of
little hills, was the most favorite route for such troops
as might try to enter the city.

Captain Saint- Andre had, in fact, entered from this
quarter in full daylight, and without being seen.

Then, these orders being given, and these dispositions
arranged, Coligny at last remembered that he was a man,
and returned to snatch a few hours' repose.

VIII

THE TENT OF THE ADVENTURERS

WHILE all these measures for the public safety were
being taken by Coligny, on whom rested the en-
tire responsibility of the defence of the city, and
while the admiral, a little reassured, as we have said, by
the ardor of the soldiers and the courage of the citizens,
had retired to the governor's palace to take a little repose,
our adventurers, ready, also, to fight for the city — because
Coligny had taken them into his pay, after certain reserva-
tions had been made by Procope — our adventurers, taking
everything carelessly, waiting for the first signal of the

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 289

trumpet and the drum, had pitched their tent a hundred
paces from the gate of Isle, and established their domicile
on a vacant piece of ground extending, in front of the Cor-
deliers, from the extremity of the .Rue Wager to the talus
of the wall.

As a result of the entrance of Coligny into Saint- Quentin
they were all united again. They were settling accounts.

Yvonnet, standing, had just faithfully poured into the
common treasury the half of the sum he owed to the lib-
erality of King Henri II. ; Procope, half the fees he had
received as notary; Maldent, half of the wages he earned
as guide; Malemort, half of the gratuity given him for
going to warn Coligny, all wounded though he was, of
the arrival of the Spaniards; Pilletrousse, in fine, half of
the amount he had gained by selling what was left of the
ox of the two Scharfensteins.

As to the latter, as there had been no fight, they had
nothing to contribute to the pile, and were busy roasting
the remains of the quarter of the ox left after the distribu-
tion of the other three-quarters by Pilletrousse, not at all
concerning themselves about the future scarcity of provi-
sions likely to result from the blockade.

Lactance brought two large sacks of wheat and a sack of
beans, which he offered to the community instead of money :
it was a present to our adventurers from the convent of the
Jacobins, whose monks had, as we know, been organized
into a regiment and had chosen .Lactance as captain.

Fracasso was all absorbed in his search for a rhyme to
perdre, which he did not find.

Under a kind of shed, hastily built, the two horses of
Yvonnet and Malemort were munching their hay and enjoy-
ing their oats.

A portable mill was established under the shed, not to
have it near the horses, but * to have it under cover; the
duty of turning it was intrusted to Heinrich and Franz.

The pecuniary affairs of the association were in a good
condition; and forty golden crowns, carefully counted by

290 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Procope, counted over again by Mai dent, and arranged in
a line in piles by Pilletrousse, were ready to enter the
common chest.

Should the association continue equally prosperous for
a whole year, it was the intention of Procope to purchase
a notary's or an attorney's business in some village; Mai-
dent's to purchase a little farm on the road to La Fere — a
farm he knew of old, for he was, as we have said, from that
country; Yvonnet's to marry some rich heiress, to whose
hand his elegance and fortune would give him a double
title; Pilletrousse 's to found some great butchery either in
Paris or in a provincial town; Fracasso's to have his poems
printed after the manner of M. Bonsard and M. Jodelle ; in
fine, Malemort's to fight for his own hand, and this as long
as he liked — a stipulation that would save him from being
bothered by the warnings of his comrades and those into
whose service he entered, that he was taking too little care
of his personal safety.

As to the two Scharfensteins,*having no idea, they had
no project.

At the moment when Maldent was counting the last
crown, and Pilletrousse was building up the last pile, a
kind of shadow fell upon the adventurers, indicating that
some opaque body had interposed between them and the
light.

Instinctively Procope stretched forth his hands toward
the gold ; Maldent, quicker still, covered it with his cap.

Yvonnet turned round. The same young man who had
tried to buy his horse in the camp of La Fere was standing
at the entrance to the tent.

Quick as Maldent had been in covering the money with
his cap, the unknown had seen it; and, with the prompt
glance of a man to whom such reckonings are familiar, he
had calculated that the sum they were so anxious to hide
from his eyes amounted to some fifty crowns of gold.

uAh, ah I" said he, "it would seem the harvest has not
been bad! An unseasonable moment to propose doing a

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

little business with you; you are sure to be hard as the
devil, my masters!"

"That depends on the gravity of the business, "' said
Procope.

"There are several kinds of business," said Maiden t.

"Does this business lead to anything further than the
benefit to be gained from the business itself?" asked
Pilletrousse.

"If there are blows to be given, I'm your man," said
Malemort.

"Provided it be not an expedition against any church
or convent, it might be arranged," said Lactance.

"Particularly if it occur by moonlight," said Fracasso.
"I am in favor of nocturnal expeditions; they alone are
poetic and picturesque."

Yvonnet said nothing; he was gazing at the stranger.

The two Scharf ensteins were entirely occupied in *roast-
ing their piece of beef.

All these observations, each of which painted the char-
acter of the speaker, issued almost simultaneously from the
lips of the adventurers.

The young man smiled. He replied, at the same time,
to all the questions, regarding, successively, the person to
whom was addressed the fraction of his answer.

"Yes," he said, "the affair is grave; no graver could
be imagined. And, although there are advantages to be
gained o.utside the business itself, as there are a good share
of blows to be given and taken, I reckon on offering you a
reasonable sum, and one that must satisfy the most difficult.
Moreover, religious minds need not be alarmed," he added;
"there is no question of church or convent; and it is proba-
ble that, for greater security, we shall act by night; I must
say, however, that I should prefer a dark night to a night
lighted up by moon and stars. ' '

""Well, well," said Procope, who usually took charge of
the discussion of the interests of the society, "develop your
proposal, and we shall see if it be acceptable. ' '

(13)— Vol. 20

292 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"My proposal is," replied the young man, "to hire you
for a nocturnal expedition, or a skirmish, or combat, or bat-
tle in open day. ' '

' ' And what shall we have to do in this nocturnal expedi-
tion, or skirmish, or combat, or battle ?"

"You will have to attack him whom I attack, to surround
and strike him until he dies. ' '

"And if he surrenders ?"

"I warn you beforehand that he shall have no quarter
from me. ' '

"Pesfe/" said Procope; "it is war to the death, then?"

' ' To the death ! you are right, my friend ! ' '

"Good!" growled Malemort,, rubbing his hands; "that's
the way to talk!"

"But still," said Maldent, "if the ransom was good, it
seems to me it would be better to hold to ransom than
to kill."

"Consequently, I shall treat of the ransom and the death
at the same time, in order that these two cases be provided
for."

"That is to say," returned Procope, "that you buy the
man, living or dead?"

' ' At the same price. ' '

"Good!" said Maldent; "it seems to me, however, that
a live man is worth more than a dead one."

"No, for I would buy the live man from you only to
make him a dead one; that's all."

"Let us see," said Procope; "how much do you
give?"

"A moment, Procope!" said Yvonnet; "it is right that
M. Waldeck should tell us who the man is. "

The young man made a bound backward.

"You have pronounced a name — " said he.

"Which is yours, monsieur," returned Yvonnet, while
the adventurers looked at one another, beginning to suspect
that it was to Yvonnet they should leave the care of their
interests.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 293

The young man scowled with his thick red eyebrows.

"And since when have you recognized me?" he asked.

"Do you wish me to tell you ?" answered Yvonnet.

Waldeck hesitated.

"Do you remember the Chateau du Parcq?" continued
the adventurer.

Waldeck turned pale.

"Do you remember the forest of Saint- Pol- sur-Ternoise ?"

"It is just because I remember it that I am here, and
making the proposal you are discussing. ' '

"Then it is Duke Emmanuel Philibert that you are pro-
posing to us to kill," said Yvonnet, quietK

"Pestel" cried Procope, "the Duke of Savoy!"

"You see it was good to have an explanation," said
Yvonnet, casting a side glance at his companions.

"And why should one not kill the Duke of Savoy?"
exclaimed Malemort.

"I do not say that the Duke of Savoy may not be
killed," retorted Procope.

"Nor I!" said Malemort; "the Duke of Savoy is our
enemy, since we have taken service with the admiral, and
I do not see why he should not be killed like another!"

Maldent made a sign of assent.

"It should cost dearer!" he said.

"Not to say that it would endanger our souls!" said
Lactance.

"Bah!" said Waldeck, with his evil smile; "do you
believe that, if he is not in hell for something else, Ben-
venuto Cellini has been damned for slaying the Connetable
de Bourbon?"

"The Connetable de Bourbon was a rebel, distinguo,"
said Procope.

"And, moreover, as he was fighting against Pope' Clem-
ent VII., it was a pious work to kill him," added Lactance.

"Oh! and of course your Duke of Savoy is such a
friend of Pope Paul IV.!" returned Waldeck, shrugging
his shoulders.

294 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"Well, well, that is not the question at all," said Pille-
trousse; "the question is the price."

"G-ood!" returned Wai deck; "that is called returning
to the question. What do you say to five hundred gold
crowns — a hundred as earnest- money, and four hundred
when the thing is done?"

Procope shook his head. "I say that we are still far
from the sum required. ' '

"I am sorry," said Waldeck, "for, not to lose time, this is
my last offer. I have five hundred gold crowns, and not a
carolus more; if you refuse, I shall have to look elsewhere. "

The adventurers sought one another's eyes; five out of
the seven shook their heads. Malemort alone was of opin-
ion that they should accept, because he saw there were
blows to be given and taken. Fracasso had fallen back
into his poetic reveries.

"For that matter," said Waldeck, "there's no hurry;
you will reflect. I know you; you know me. We dwell
in the same city ; we can easily find each other again. ' '

And, saluting the adventurers with a slight nod, he
turned on his heel, and was gone.

"Ought we to call him back?" said Procope.

"Faith!" said Maldent, "five hundred crowns are not
found under every hedge!"

' ' And then, ' ' said Yvonnet, " it is all he has ; the loveli-
est girl in the world cannot give more than that."

" My brethren, " said Lactance, "the lives of the princes
of the earth are under the direct guardianship of Heaven ;
one risks one's soul by touching them. We must touch
them, then, only for a sum that will allow each one of us
to purchase the indulgences of which he shall have need,
whether we succeed or no. The intention, my brethren —
the worthy prior of the Jacobins told me so yesterday — the
intention, my brethren, is taken for the deed. ' '

"There is no doubt," said Procope, "that the deed itself
would gain us more than the sum mentioned in the proposal.
What if we did it on our own account, eh ?"

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 295

"Yes," said Malemort; "let us do the job."

"Gentlemen," said Procope, "the idea is M. Waldeck's.
To take from a man his idea, especially when he has con-
fided it to us, would be robbery. You know my principles
in matters of law. ' '

"Well," said Yvonnet, "if the idea is his, and he has
a property in it, I think it would be as well to accept the
five hundred crowns. ' '

"Yes; let us accept and have a fight!" cried Malemort.

"Oh, there's no hurry," said Maldent.

"And if he treats with others?" asked Yvonnet.

"Yes, if he treats with others?" repeated Procope.

"Let us accept and have a fight!" howled Malemort.

"Yes! yes! let us accept!" cried all, with one voice.

"Let us accept!" cried the two Scharfensteins, who en-
tered at the moment, bearing on a plank their piece of roast
beef, and, without knowing what it was all about, ranged
themselves on the side of the majority, giving a fresh proof
of good disposition.

' ' Then let some one run after him and call him back, ' '
said Procope.

"Let me!" said Malemort. And he rushed out.

But no sooner had he done so than he heard some shots
in the direction of the Faubourg d'Isle, which suddenly
increased to a lively fusillade.

"A fight! a fight!" cried Malemort, drawing his sword,
and running toward the sound, which came from a point
directly opposite to that made for by the bastard of Wai-
deck, who was going toward the tower of L'Eau.

"Oh, oh! there is fighting at the Faubourg d'Isle!" ex-
claimed Yvonnet; "I must see what has become of Grudule!"

"But the business?" cried Procope.

"Finish it as you like," said Yvonnet; "whatever you
do will be well done — I give you my proxy. ' '

He rushed after Malemort, who had already passed the
first bridge, and had his foot on the island forming the strait
of Saint- Pierre.

296 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Let us follow, in our turn, Malemort and Yvonnet, in
order to find out what was taking place at the Faubourg
d'Isle.

IX

A FIGHT

IT WILL be recollected that, on entering the government
palace, Coligny had given orders, toward the evening,
for a sortie, having for object to burn the houses lining
the exterior boulevard, under cover of which the Spaniards
were able to fire on the defenders of the city, who, stationed
on an interior plateau, had no shelter from it.

These orders had been given to MM. Theligny, Jarnac,
and Luzarches.

Consequently, at six in the evening, the three officers
collected a hundred men from their companies and a hun-
dred and twenty citizens of good will, led by Gruillaume
and Jean Pauquet.

These two hundred and twenty men were to attack two
thousand.

Hardly thirty paces from the old wall the road bifur-
cates, as we have already stated.

One of these branches leads to Guise, the other to La Fere.

The houses to be destroyed lay on each side of this road,
and on each of its branches.

The little troop, once out of the city, had therefore to
divide itself into two bands: one attacking on the right,
the other on the left, and setting fire to the houses at the
same time.

Gruillaume and Jean Pauquet, who knew the localities,
took charge of these two bands.

At half-past six the gate of the Faubourg d'Isle was
opened, and the little troop marched out at double quick.

But secret as had been the gathering, quick as had been
the sortie, the gathering had been signalled by the sentries,
and the sortie anticipated by Carondelet and Julian Eomeron.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 297

The result was that at the opening of each street the
French found a platoon of Spaniards double their number,
and that from each window there was a hail of death upon
them.

But still, such was the impetuosity of their shock that
the platoons of Spaniards defending the two streets were
broken, and, in spite of the fire from the windows, five or
six houses were invaded.

No need of saying that Malemort, shouting, howling,
cursing, and, above all, striking, had managed to make his
way to the head of the two columns, and to be the first to
enter one of the houses.

Once in the house, it is useless to say that Malemort
forgot he was there to burn it; and, rushing up the stair-
case, he gained the upper story.

On the other hand, those who came with him forgot that
he had entered before them, and, remembering only their
orders, piled up fagots in the lower rooms, and especially
at the foot of the staircase.

They then set fire to them.

The same happened to two or three houses lining the
boulevard.

The Spaniards had at first supposed the attack to be an
ordinary sortie ; but they soon guessed the aim of the French
from the clouds of smoke escaping from the ground- floors.

Then they united all their efforts, and, being ten times
superior to the little troop, they repulsed it.

But the latter had at least been partially successful:
flames were beginning to issue from the roofs of two or
three houses.

It will be remembered that Yvonnet, not having been
one of those selected for the sortie, had had the idea of
utilizing his time by visiting Mademoiselle Gudule, whose
terrors he calmed; these terrors were great, for, as we have
said, the father and uncle of the young girl acted as guides
on this occasion.

For a moment the cries, shouts, noise of the fusillade

298 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

were so loud that Yvonnet himself was anxious to learn
what was passing, and crept into the garret, accompanied
by the young girl, who followed him like his shadow, a
little through fear, but much through love.

Then, through a dormer window, he could form some
idea of what was going on.

The firing from the arquebuses never ceased ; and, at the
same time, the clash of steel against steel showed that there
was a hand-to-hand conflict in the streets.

This was not all. As we have said, the smoke issued
through the roofs of four or five houses, and in the midst
of the smoke human beings were seen going and coming
quite scared.

These were the Spaniards, surprised by the conflagra-
tion, and who, as the stairs were burning, could not de-
scend from the upper stories of the houses.

It was easily seen that the Spaniards in the houses were in
great fear ; but, in one case, this fear rose to absolute dismay.

It was where Malemort was operating, who, paying no
attention at all to the conflagration, was attacking, smiting,
fighting, in the midst of the smoke.

At the moment Yvonnet put his nose out of the window
the scene was passing on the first story.

Such of the Spaniards as preserved some coolness while
defending this first story, having to wrestle at once with the
flames and with a man who seemed to be a demon, at last
jumped out of the window.

The others instinctively retreated to the second story.

Malemort did not trouble himself about those who leaped
from the windows; but he pursued those who fled to the
second story, howling his favorite cry, "A fight!"

During all this time the devouring element was doing its
office, Malemort was pursuing the Spaniards, and the fire
was pursuing Malemort.

Doubtless the adventurer owed his by no means usual
invulnerability this time to the powerful ally marching be-
hind him, to whom he evidently paid no attention.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 299

Soon the smoke obscured the second story, as it had
the first, and the fire darted its tongues of flame through
the floor.

One or two Spaniards, braving the danger of the fall,
jumped through the windows of the second story just as
their comrades had jumped through those of the first.
Others tried to escape by the roof.

Two men and the half of a third man succeeded in get-
ting through a dormer window; we say the half of a third
man, because the latter seemed to have been brought to
a halt, and showed unmistakably by the expression of his
countenance that things were happening to that part of his
body remaining behind which were very disagreeable.

Malemort was, in fact, dealing that inactive portion of
the human frame fearful blows with his sword.

The Spaniard, after making vain attempts to join his
companions running along the roofs, fell back, and, in spite
of a final effort to hang on to the sill of the window, disap-
peared at last entirely.

Five minutes after it was the face of Malemort that ap-
peared at the dormer window, instead of that of the Span-
iard. The new face was easily recognizable by its linen
mask — a souvenir of the last battle of the owner, which ap-
peared at the window instead of that of the Spaniard.

He saw his two enemies flying, and was setting out in
pursuit.

Malemort might have been taken for a tiler or a rope-
dancer, so steadily did he tread the narrow path.

If he had been a Mussulman his shadow would undoubt-
edly have crossed, without the aid of a balancing pole, that
bridge of Mahomet's Paradise which leads from earth to
heaven, and is not broader than the edge of a razor.

The two fugitives soon saw the danger that menaced them.

One of them came to a decision immediately: at the
risk of breaking his legs, he slid down the slope of the
roof, seized the border of the window, and slipped through
into the room below.

800 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

This house, though placed between two fires, had so far
escaped.

Malemort did not bother himself about the Spaniard who
had so far succeeded in his perilous slide, and continued his
pursuit of the one who remained.

From their observatory Yvonnet and Gudule followed
the course of these aerial gymnastics — Yvonnet with all the
interest such a spectacle would naturally produce in a man,
Gudule with all the terror it must excite in a woman.

In this fashion the two acrobats, going from house to
house, gained the last roof, which, like many of our old
buildings, seemed to lean forward in order to admire itself
in the river.

This house was of wood, and was burning on all sides.

Arrived at the extremity of the roof, and, seeing that
he could not go further, except Saint- James, the patron of
Spain, lent him wings, the fugitive, who doubtless did not
know how to swim, turned back, resolved to sell his life
dearly.

The struggle began; but at the moment it reached its
highest degree of fury the roof cracked to give exit to the
smoke first, and the flames afterward; then it tottered,
then sank, burying both combatants in its frightful
crater.

One of them disappeared entirely. The other hung on to
a rafter that, though burning, was still solid, recovered his
centre of gravity, made his way, all on fire, to the extremity
of the rafter, and then, launching himself from the top of
a second story, threw himself into the Somme.

Gudule uttered a loud cry; Yvonnet almost flung him-
self out of the window ; for a moment both hardly breathed.
Was the bold plunger engulfed forever, or was he going to
reappear ?

Then, the second question, was it the Spaniard, or was it
Malemort ?

Soon the surface of the water bubbled, and a head was
seen to appear, then arms, then a torso, which swam, ac-

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 301

cording to the flow of the water, evidently with the design
of landing behind the old wall.

The moment the swimmer took this direction, it was
pretty certain it was Malemort.

Yvonnet and Ghidule descended rapidly, and ran to the
point where the swimmer, in all probability, was going to
land. And, in fact, they arrived just in time to drag out
of the water, half burned, half drowned, the furious fighter,
who, utterly exhausted, fainted in their arms, and bran-
dished his sword, shouting, "Battle! battle!"

Bad as was Malemort 's case, every one did not get off as
well as he did.

.Repulsed, as we have said, by the old Spanish band of
Carondelet and Don Julian, the soldiers and bourgeois, after
succeeding in burning two or three houses, not having been
able to retreat in as orderly a manner as was desirable, were
huddled together at the old wall in a manner that gave the
Spaniards a chance of having their revenge.

Thirty soldiers and twenty townsmen remained on the
square ; and for a time it looked as if the Spaniards would
enter pell-mell with those they were pursuing. Yvonnet
heard the cries of the Spaniards, who were already howl-
ing, "The city is taken!" He ran to the tent of the adven-
turers, all the time shouting, "To arms!" and returned with
a reinforcement of a hundred men — one part of whom scat-
tered along the ramparts, while the other rushed upon the
enemy, already under the vault.

But at the head of those who rushed to the aid of the
faubourg were the two Scharfensteins, armed, the one with
his club, the other with his two-handed sword. The blows
fell upon the Spaniards thick as those of the flail upon the
threshing-floor, and all had to recoil before the two giants.

Once the Spaniards were driven out of the vault, the
question was to close the gates. Now, this was not a thing
easily done, for the enemy opposed it with all their might-
some holding the doors back with their hands, others with
the butts of their muskets. But the two Scharfensteins

302 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

managed to get between the combatants and the wall; and,
stiffening themselves against it, they gradually, bnt irresis-
tibly, succeeded in bringing the folds of the door together,
and shot the bolts across them.

This task accomplished, they breathed noisily and in
such perfect unison that it almost looked as if these two
bodies had but a single pair of lungs.

But the two giants had hardly regained their normal
condition, when a cry of terror resounded, ' k To the walls !
to the walls!"

Two breaches had, in fact, been made in the wall, one on
each side of the gate, with the object of transporting from
that quarter the earth needed for constructing certain plat-
forms for artillery ; these breaches had been closed up with
bales of wool, etc.

Now, when the besiegers were driven from the gate, they
bethought themselves of the breaches, and hoped to carry
the city by making a sudden dash on them.

The two Scharfensteins, on rushing out of the vault, had
only to cast a glance round them to judge of the imminence
of the peril. In spite of their usual custom of fighting
together, a division of their strength was, in the circum-
stances, so urgent that, after exchanging a few words with
their usual laconic sobriety, the uncle ran to the breach on
the right, the nephew to the breach on the left.

The enemy, being supplied with those long pikes which,
at the time, formed the regular weapon of the Spanish in-
fantry, were mounting .to the assault of both breaches,
driving citizens and soldiers before that forest of steel.

Heinrich Scharfenstein, for the moment proprietor of the
mace, saw that this short heavy weapon would be almost
useless against the Spanish pikes ten feet long; he hung his
mace to his belt, and, without ever slackening his course,
picked up a huge block of stone lying on the rampart, and
ran with this enormous mass to the breach, crying, "Look
out!"

It was the breach at which Yvonnet was fighting.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 303

The latter saw him, and divined his intention. With
a sweep of his sword he kept back his comrades, and gave
free course to the Spaniards who were mounting the breach;
but, the moment they were half-way up on the wall, the
German giant made his appearance on the top of the breach,
raised above his head the block he had until now carried
on his shoulder, and, combining all the impetus of his
strength with the natural weight of- the projectile, he
launched it on the first ranks of the Spaniards with a
violence that no catapult ever constructed could surpass.

The rock descended, bounding through the dense col-
umn, breaking, crushing, pulverizing everything it met on
its way.

Then, through the road opened for him, Heinrich rushed
with his terrible mace, and, striking right and left, soon
made an end of those whom the gigantic block had spared
or had only half reached.

In less than ten minutes this breach was cleared of the
besiegers.

Franz had also wrought deeds equally marvellous.

He, too, had cried to the soldiers and citizens to look
out, and at his voice their ranks had opened; then with his
great two-handed sword he began to mow down that harvest
of lances, with every stroke cutting off five or six pike-
heads, as easily as Tarquin, in the garden of Gabiae, hewed
off the heads of the poppies in presence of his son's mes-
senger. Then, when he had now before him men armed
with sticks only, he flung himself into the Spanish ranks,
and began mowing down men with the same fury he had
until now shown in mowing down lances.

Consequently, the Spaniards were baffled at this point also.

But an unforeseen incident was very nearly making
Franz lose all the fruit of the glorious succor he had just
brought to the people of Saint- Quentin.

A man, more ardent even than himself after the human
quarry,, slipped under his arm, shouting, "Battle!" and
rushed in pursuit of the Spaniards.

304 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

It was Malemort, who, after regaining consciousness, had
swallowed a bottle of wine given him by Gudule, and at
once returned to the charge.

Unfortunately, two or three of those he was pursuing,
seeing that they were followed by only a single man, turned
round, and although, as the heads of their pikes had been
lopped off, their only weapons were a sort of stick, one of
them with a blow of his stick knocked down and utterly
stunned Malemort.

Citizens and soldiers uttered a cry of regret; they be-
lieved the brave adventurer dead. Luckily Franz had
made certain observations on the thickness of his com-
rade's skull. He ran up to him, with one stroke of his
formidable sword split the head of the Spaniard, who was
about to finish Malemort with his dagger, took his com-
panion by the foot, and hurried with him to the breach,
where he flung him. Then Malemort began to open his
eyes, murmuring, "Battle!" in the arms of Lactance, who
ran up with his Jacobins.

Behind the monks came the admiral, at the head of a
small band of select arquebusiers ; these opened such a well-
directed fire on the exterior boulevard and on such houses
as still remained standing, that the Spaniards were forced
to get under cover, and for some time kept very quiet.

The admiral then investigated the condition of affairs:
the loss had been very great, and the Faubourg d'Isle
escaped being carried by storm only by a very narrow
chance. Many captains did their best to persuade the ad-
miral to abandon this point, the defence of which had so far
cost the garrison and the citizens combined a loss of over
threescore men; but Coligny was firm: he was convinced
that the prolongation of the siege, perhaps the safety of
the city, depended on the occupation of this suburb.

He gave orders that every effort should be made during
the approaching night to repair the two breaches and do
whatever else could be done for the safety of the quarter.

The Jacobins, whose sombre monastic habits rendered

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 305

them less noticeable in the darkness, were assigned to this
duty, which they performed with the impassive courage
of monastic devotion.

As a nocturnal attack was feared, the arquebusiers
watched on the rampart; while, to give the alarm, in
case the enemy might think of turning the old wall, sen-
tries were stationed at intervals of twenty yards along
the entire line of the marshes of the Somme.

It was a terrible night for the city of Saint- Quentin, this
night of the 3d and 4th of August — a night when it had to
bewail the loss of its first dead !

So every one watched over his house and quarter with
the same zeal with which the sentries watched over the
Faubourg d'Isle.

The poor inhabitants of the faubourg, understanding that
the hottest part of the attack and defence would be there,
were quitting their houses, dragging after them in carts or
hand- barrows their most valuable possessions. Among the
emigrants who abandoned the faubourg for the city was
Gruillaume Pauquet, whose brother Jean offered him the
hospitality of his house, situated at the angle made by
the Eue du Yieux-Marche* and the Eue des Arbaletriers.

His daughter Grudule, still stunned by the events of the
day, entered the city, leaning on his arm; she turned her
head from time to time, saying to herself it was from her
sorrow at seeing abandoned to certain destruction the house
in which she was born, but in reality to make sure that the
handsome Yvonnet was not losing sight of her.

In fact, Yvonnet was following, at a reasonable distance,
the bourgeois, his daughter, and the weavers whom Jean
Pauquet had lent his brother to help him in transporting
his furniture, and who were conscientiously acquitting them-
selves of their duty.

It was, then, a great consolation for poor Grudule to see
the young man crossing Saint- Quentin through its entire
length, bisecting the square of the Hotel de Yille, follow-
ing the Eue Sainte- Marguerite, the Eue du Yieux-Marche,

306 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

and, at the corner of the Rue aux Pourceaux, saw him enter
her uncle's house, known by its sign of the Navette couronnee.

Under pretence of great fatigue — and the pretence was
plausible after such a day — Gudule asked leave to retire at
once to her room, and she was permitted to do so without
further remark.

Gudule really began to believe that there was a special
providence for lovers when she saw that the lodging in-
tended by her uncle for her and her father was a kind
of little pavilion, forming the angle of the garden, and
opening on the road running along the rampart.

So as soon as she found herself alone in her new domi-
cile, her first care was to extinguish the lamp, as if she had
gone to bed, and open the window, in order to explore the
neighborhood, and see what facility this window could offer
to a nimble climber.

The facility was great : this portion of the rampart, which
extended between the gate of the Vieux-Marche and the
tower Dameuse, was certainly the most deserted in the city.
A rope-ladder eight or ten feet high would perform for the
pavilion of the Rue des Arbaletriers the same office per-
formed by the post at the house in the Faubourg d'Isle.

It is true the partitions separating the room of Grudule
from the room of Guillaume were very slight, and the slight-
est noise in her chamber would be likely to arouse paternal
suspicion; but, the ladder of ropes once suitably fixed, what
should hinder Gudule from descending on the rampart in-
stead of Yvonnet mounting to her chamber ?

By this arrangement either the lovers would have very
bad luck, or the chamber, remaining solitary, would be
necessarily noiseless and voiceless.

Gudule was plunged into all these strategetical combina-
tions which for the moment, made of her a tactician almost
as able as the admiral himself, when she saw a shadow glide
along the garden wall.

Yvonnet was also engaged in a tour of explorations, and
reconnoitring the new field of battle on which he was to

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 307

manoeuvre. It was not a siege difficult to make, was this
of Maitre Pauquet's house, particularly for a man who, like
our adventurer, had a spy in the place.

Consequently, everything was arranged for the following
night without any difficulty.

Then, as the footsteps of Gruillaume Pauquet were heard
on the staircase, falling a little heavy on account of the fa-
tigue of the day, Gudule closed her window, and YVonnet
disappeared through the Rue Saint- Jean.

M. DE THELIGNY

DAYBREAK found the admiral on the rampart. Far
from being cast down by the check of the evening
before, Graspard de Coligny decided that a fresh
attempt should be made.

In his opinion, the enemy was aware that the city had
received a reinforcement, but was utterly ignorant of its
extent. They must try to convince the Spaniards that
this reinforcement was much larger than it was in reality.

Emmanuel Philibert might thus be led to undertake a
regular siege, if he were forced to believe that the city
could not be taken by a surprise ; now a regular siege was
a respite for ten days, for a fortnight, perhaps for a month,
and during that period the constable would make an attempt
to relieve them, or the king would have leisure to adopt the
measures required by the circumstances.

He therefore summoned M. de Theligny, the young lieu-
tenant of the Dauphin's Company.

This officer presented himself immediately. He had done
wonders the preceding evening at the Faubourg d'Isle, and
yet had escaped without a wound; so that the soldiers, see-
ing him emerge without a scratch from a fusillade of balls,

308 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

from the midst of swords and lances, had baptized him the
Invulnerable.

He approached the admiral, gay and smiling, like a man
who has just done his duty, and is ready to do it again. The
admiral led him behind the parapet of one of the towers.

"M. de Theligny, " he said, "do you see yon Spanish, post
well from here ?"

Theligny made a sign that he saw it perfectly.

"Well, it seems to me it could be easily surprised with
thirty or forty troopers. Order out thirty or forty men of
your company, put a safe man at their head, and carry that
post for me.7'

"But, M. de Coligny," asked Theligny, smiling, "why
should I not be that safe man myself who is to command
the sortie ? I confess I believe every one of my officers to
be a safe man; but I am also pretty certain, for very differ-
ent reasons, that I am a safe man myself. ' '

The admiral laid a hand on his shoulder.

"My dear Theligny," he said, "men of your character
are rare; they ought not, therefore, to be exposed to the
risk of falling in a mere skirmish. Give me your word of
honor that you will not command this sortie, or I remain
on the rampart, half dead with fatigue though I am. ' '

"If that is the case, M. 1'Amiral, " said Theligny, bow-
ing, "retire, take some repose, and allow me to conduct
this enterprise: I pledge you my word not to leave the
city gate."

"I count on your word, monsieur," said Coligny,
gravely.

Then, as if he wished to have it understood that the
gravity of his voice and face was only due to this recom-
mendation not to leave the city —

"As for myself, my dear Theligny, " he added, "I do
not intend returning to the governor's palace, as it is too
far from here; I shall go to M. Jarnac's, throw myself on a
bed, and sleep for an hour or two. You'll find me there."

"Rest easy, M. 1'Amiral," replied Theligny; "I watch."

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 809

The admiral descended the rampart in front of the tower
of Ghiise, and entered into the second house of the Eue de
Kemicourt, which was the one inhabited by M. de Jarnac.

Theligny followed him with his eyes; then, turning
toward an ensign —

''Thirty or forty men of goodwill of the Company of
the Dauphin!" he said.

"You shall have them on the instant, lieutenant!"
replied the ensign.

"How can that be? I did not give any order until
now. ' '

"It is true; but M. de Coligny's words were caught on
the wing by a person who happened to be near you. This
person at once ran to the barracks, shouting, 'Dauphins!
Dauphins ! to battle !' "

"And what sort of a man is this who has so well exe-
cuted my orders before they were given?"

"By my faith," replied the ensign, laughing, "he looks
much more like a devil than a man: the half of his face is
covered with a bloody bandage, his hair is burned down to
the skull, his cuirass is full of holes before and behind, and
his clothes are in rags!"

"Ah! very well," said Theligny; "I know the fellow.
You are right: he is not a man, he is a devil!"

' ' And look, lieutenant, there he is, ' ' said the ensign.

And he pointed to a horseman coming at full gallop from
the gate of Isle.

It was Malemort, half burned, half drowned, half stunned
in the sortie of the evening before, and who, feeling only the
better for it all, was insisting on a new sortie.

At the same time, from the opposite side— that is to say,
debouching on the Rue du Billon, at the extremity of which
was a barracks — a little band of forty horsemen was ad-
vancing.

With the activity which distinguished him when there
was question of giving or receiving blows, Malemort had
found time to run to the quarter, make known the inten-

310 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

tions of the admiral, gain the gate of Isle, saddle his horse,
and return to the gate of Bemicourt, where he arrived, as
we see, at the same time as the horsemen of the Dauphin's
Company.

All the return he asked for the zeal and activity he had
just displayed was the favor of being allowed to form part
of the expedition, and this was granted him.

Moreover, he had declared that if he were not allowed
to join the principal sortie, he would make one on his own
account; and if the gates were not opened for him, he would
jump down from the rampart.

Only Theligny, who knew what he was from having seen
him at work the evening before, advised him not to separate
from the principal body and to charge in the ranks.

Malemort promised all he was asked to do.

The. gate was opened, and the little troop issued forth.

But no sooner was Malemort outside of the gate than he
rode in a straight line across the country at a furious gallop,
and shouting "Battle!" being carried away by the fury
which possessed him, and not being able to restrict him-
self to the road followed by his companions, which, under
cover of trees and from the favorable lay of the ground, was
to bring the forty horsemen quite close to the Spanish
post.

During this time the admiral, as he had expressed his
intention of doing, had retired to the house of M. de Jarnac,
and thrown himself on a bed; but, harassed by a sort of pre-
sentiment; and, in spite of his fatigue, not being able to
sleep, he got up at the end of half an hour, and, thinking
he heard cries from the rampart, he seized his sword and
scabbard and went out hastily.

He had scarcely taken twenty steps in the Eue de Remi-
court when he saw MM. de Luzarches and de Jarnac run-
ning toward him. It was easy guessing from their alarmed
appearance that something serious had occurred.

"Ah!" said M. de Jarnac, "you know already?"

"Know what?" asked Coligny.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 311

The two officers looked at each other.

"You did not know," said M. de Luzarches; "why, then,
did you come out?"

' ' I could not sleep ; I felt a kind of presentiment. When
I heard cries I rose, and so here I am. ' '

"Come, then!"

And the two officers rapidly ascended the rampart with
the admiral.

The rampart was thronged with spectators.

This is what had taken place.

The premature attack of Malemort had given the alarm.
The Spanish post was more numerous than had been im-
agined; the soldiers and officers of the Dauphin's Company,
who thought they were going to surprise the enemy, found
the enemy on horseback, and double their number. At this
sight the charge slackened; some horsemen turned rein, the
cowardly abandoning the brave. The latter were engaged
with forces so superior in numbers that without reinforce-
ments they must give • way. Theligny forgot his word
pledged to the admiral: with no weapon but his sword,
he jumped on the first horse within his reach, dashed
through the gate, and called on those who had turned
rein not to desert their companions; some of them rallied
to him, and with nine or ten men he threw himself into the
middle of the Spaniards, hoping to make a diversion.

An instant after, all that was left of the forty troopers
was flying toward the city.

Their number was diminished by a third, and M. de
Theligny was not with them.

It was then MM. de Jarnac and de Luzarches, judging
it necessary to inform the admiral of this new check, had
run to the house in which he was supposed to be taking
a little rest, and had met him half-way from it.

All three were now on the rampart commanding the
theatre of the catastrophe.

Coligny questioned the fugitives ; they told him what we
have just related.

312 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

They could tell nothing certain about M. de Theligny;
they had seen him fall on the Spaniards like a thunderbolt,
and strike the Spanish officer on the face with his sword;
but he was then at once surrounded, and as he did not carry
any offensive weapon, he fell at the end of a few seconds,
pierced with wounds.

But one soldier insisted that, all weaponless and wounded
as M. de Theligny was, that brave officer was still alive, be-
cause he saw him make a movement as if to call for help
at the moment he was galloping by him.

Although his hope was a feeble one, the admiral ordered
the officers of the Dauphin's Company to make an effort, at
any risk, to bring back M. de Theligny, dead or alive.

The officers wanted nothing better than the chance of
avenging their comrade; they were already making for the
barracks, when a sort of Goliath issued from the crowd,
and, bearing his hand to his helmet, said —

"Excuse me, Meinherr Admiral; there is no need of a
company to find the poor lieutenant, If you like, Meinherr
Admiral, I and my nephew Franz will go in search of him,
and are sure to bring him back, dead or alive!"

The admiral turned toward the author of this worthy
proposal: he was one of those adventurers he had taken
into his service without reckoning too much on them, but
who, in the few encounters he witnessed them in, had cer-
tainly done noble service.

He recognized Heinrich Sclmrfenstein ; four paces be-
hind him Franz was standing, like his shadow, in the same
attitude.

He had seen both the evening before, each defending
one of the breaches of the Faubourg d'Isle; a glance had
been enough to enable him to judge of their value.

"Yes, my brave fellow, I accept. What do you ask for
this?"

"I ask a horse for myself, and another for my nephew
Franz."

"But that is not what I mean."

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 313

"Well, let us see. Yes, I want two men to ride be-
hind us.''

"Be it so; what next?"

"Next? That's all. Except it would be well to have
the horses fat and the men lean. ' '

"Well, you can choose the men and horses yourself."

"Grood!" said Heinrich.

' ' But I meant about the reward. ' '

"Oh! as for the money part, that's Procope's affair."

"Procope has nothing to do with this," said the admiral.
"I promise for Theligny alive, a gratuity of fifty crowns,
and for Theligny dead, a gratuity of twenty-five."

"Oh, oh!" said Heinrich, laughing with his big laugh,
"I'll search as long as you like at such a price as that!"

"Well, then, go," said the admiral, "and lose no
time!"

"At once, Meinherr Admiral! at once!"

And, in fact, Heinrich began at once to select the horses.
The ones he preferred were the heavy cavalry animals,
stoutly built, vigorous, and solid on their limbs.
Then he began the inspection of men.

Suddenly he uttered an exclamation of joy; he had just
perceived Lactance on one side, and Fracasso on the other.
A pentient and a poet were the two leanest things Heinrich
knew in the world.

The admiral did not know what to think of all these
preparations; but he felt he might rely, if not on the intel-
ligence, at least on the instinct of the two giants. The four
adventurers descended the talus of the rampart, disappeared
under the vault of the gate of Remicourt; then, a moment
after, the gate being opened for them, they reappeared, two
on each horse, but taking all the precautions as to shade
and shelter possible — advantages neglected by Malemort.

Then they were lost behind a little eminence rising to
the right of the mill of La Couture.

It would be impossible to express the interest that at-
tached to this expedition of four men going to dispute

314 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

a dead body with a whole army, for the opinion of the least
pessimistic was now that Theligny must be really dead.

So that the silence observed by the three or four hundred
persons packed on the rampart as long as the four adven-
turers were in sight continued after they disappeared behind
the hill.

It almost looked as if this crowd feared, by a word, by
a breath, by a movement, to awaken the watchfulness of
the enemy.

At the end of an instant a volley was heard from eight
or ten arquebuses.

Every heart gave a bound.

Almost at the same moment Franz Scharfenstein reap-
peared, carrying, not a man, but two men, in his arms.

Behind him the cavalry and infantry of the expedition
was defending the retreat.

The cavalry was composed only of a horse and a man;
doubtless, one of the two horses had been slain by the dis-
charge they had just heard.

The infantry consisted of Fracasso and Lactance, each
armed with an arquebuse.

Eight or ten Spanish troopers harassed the retreat. But
when the infantry was too closely pressed, Heinrich made
a charge and saved it by the terrible blows he dealt with
his club ; on the other hand, if it was the cavalry that was
too closely pressed, two shots fired from two arquebuses
with remarkable symmetry and unity, laid two Spaniards
low, and gave Heinrich time to breathe.

However, Franz was gaining ground, and in a few
seconds, thanks to his enormous strides, he found himself
beyond the reach of all pursuit.

There was a cry of joy and admiration when he began
climbing the talus, bearing in his arms these two bodies,
living men or corpses, as a nurse would have borne two
children.

He laid one half of his burden at the feet of the admiral.

"That is yours," he said; "he is not quite dead."

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 315

"And the other?" he said, pointing to the second
wounded man.

"Oh, the other," said Franz, "doesn't matter. It's
Malemort. He'll be himself in a minute. He is the devil
himself ; nothing can kill him. ' '

And he laughed that laugh peculiar to uncle and nephew,
which might have been called the laugh of the Scharfen-
steins.

At this moment, the three other adventurers, cavalry
and infantry, amid wild cheering, entered the city.

Theligny, as Franz Scharfenstein said, was not yet dead,
although pierced by seven sword- thrusts and three balls.
His condition was easily seen, the Spaniards having stripped
him to his shirt and left him where he fell, being quite cer-
tain he would never rise again.

He was carried immediately to M. de Jarnac's, and laid
on the bed, where the admiral an hour before had not been
able to rest, being disturbed by a presentiment of what had
happened.

There, as if the wounded man had only waited for this
moment, he opened his eyes, looked around him, and recog-
nized the admiral.

"A doctor! a doctor!" cried Coligny, quickly, grasping
at a hope which he had entirely given up until now; but
Theligny stretched out his hand to him —

"Thanks, M. 1'Amiral," he said; "God permits me to
open my eyes once more and recover my voice in order
to ask you very humbly to pardon me for having dis-
obeyed you."

The admiral stopped him.

"Ah, my dear Theligny," said he, "it is not for you to
ask my pardon, for if you have disobeyed me, it has been
through excessive zeal for the king's service; but if you are
as bad as you think, and if you have anything to ask, ask
it of God."

"Oh, monsieur!" said Theligny, "I have happily to ask
pardon of God only for those faults which a gentleman may

(14)— Vol. 20

316 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

confess ; while by disobeying you I have committed a grave
offence against discipline. Forgive me then, M. 1'Amiral,
so that I may die tranquil. ' '

M. de Coligny, a warm appreciator of all true courage,
felt the tears coming to his eyes on hearing this young
officer, who was on the point of abandoning a life so full
of fair promise, apparently only troubled by a moment's
forgetfulness of the orders of his general.

' ' Since you insist on it, ' ' he said, ' ' I pardon you a fault
of which every brave soldier ought to be proud, and if this
alone disturbs your last hour, die tranquilly and in peace,
as died the Chevalier Bayard, the model of us all!"

And he bent down to imprint a kiss on the pale brow of
the dying young soldier.

The latter made an effort, and rose.

The lips of the admiral touched the forehead of the
young officer, who murmured —

"Thanks!"

And he fell back, breathing a sigh.

It was his last.

"Gentlemen," said Coligny, wiping away a tear, and
addressing those who surrounded him, "there is a brave
soldier the less in the world. May Grod grant us all such
a death!"

XI

THE AWAKING OF M. LE CONNETABLE

GLORIOUS as had been the two checks encountered
by the admiral, they were not the less checks, and
showed him the absolute necessity of being promptly
reinforced in face of such a numerous army and such active
vigilance.

Consequently he took advantage of the fact that the ab-
sence of the English army still left one entire side of the
city free to send messengers to his uncle, the constable, in

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 317

order to obtain the largest reinforcements possible. For
this purpose he summoned Maldent and Yvonnet to his
presence — Yvonnet, who had been the guide of poor
Theligny, and Maldent, who had been his own guide.

The constable must be either at Ham or at La Fere ; one
of the two messengers would therefore go to Ham, the other
to La Fere, to carry news to the constable and point out the
best means of succoring Saint- Quentin.

This means, which the absence of the English army ren-
dered easy, consisted simply in despatching a strong column
by the Savy highway, which terminates at the Faubourg
Ponthoille; while as soon as it made its appearance, Coligny
would make a sortie from the opposite side of the city and
keep the attention of the enemy engaged until the advancing
column made its way safely into Saint- Quentin.

The two messengers started the same evening, bearing
each a pressing request, the one on the part of Malemort,
the other on that of the despairing Ghidule.

Malemort had received a sword-thrust in his side ; luck-
ily it had passed through an old scar — a thing which almost
always happened to him, for there was hardly a part of his
body that did not show a cicatrice. Malemort entreated
his comrade to bring back with him certain herbs absolutely
necessary for the renewal of that famous balm of Ferragus,
of which he consumed such awful quantities.

Gludule, who had received through the heart a thrust in
a certain sense more painful and deadly than that of Male-
mort, recommended Yvonnet to watch with the greatest care
over a life with which hers was bound up. While waiting
for the return of her beloved Yvonnet, she would pass all
her nights at her window looking out upon the rampart of
the Vieux-Marche.

Our two adventurers left through the gate of Ponthoille;
then, when they had travelled together nearly half a league
on the road to Ham, Yvonnet struck across the country to
reach the road to La Fere, while Maldent continued on that
of Ham.

318 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Yvonnet passed the Somme between Gauchy and Gruois,
and got on the La Fere route at Cerisy.

As it is at La Fere the constable is staying, we shall
follow Yvonnet rather than Maldent.

At three in the morning, Yvonnet knocked at the gate
of the city, which refused obstinately to open; however, the
porter, learning that a night visitor had arrived from Saint-
Quentin, at last drew it back sufficiently to let him slip
through.

The order had been given by the constable to admit
without delay any messenger coming from his nephew,
and bring him before him, whatever the hour might be.

At half -past three in the morning, the constable was
roused from slumber.

The old soldier was lying in a bed — a luxury he rarely
allowed himself during a campaign; but he had under the
pillow his constable's sword, and on a chair close to
the bed, his armor and helmet; which indicated that on
the slightest alarm he would be able to attack an enemy
or defend himself.

Those who served under him were, moreover, accus-
tomed to be summoned at all hours of the day or night,
either to give their opinion or to receive his orders.

Yvonnet was received into the chamber of the indefati-
gable old man, who, knowing a messenger had arrived, was
waiting for this messenger, half raised up and leaning on
his elbow.

Hardly did he hear the footsteps of Yvonnet than, with
his ordinary brutality, he said —

"Come forward here at once, rascal!"

It was not a time for the display of tender sensibilities.
Yvonnet came forward.

"Closer, closer," said the constable, "until I see the
whites of your eyes, knave ! I like to look at those I am
speaking to. ' '

Yvonnet advanced to the side of the bed.

"Here I am, monseigneur, " said he.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 319

' ' All ! there you are ; how fortunate ! ' '

He took his lamp and gazed on the adventurer with an
expression that did not show the inspection was favorable.

"I have seen that sharper's face somewhere already,"
said the constable, speaking to himself.

Then to Yvonnet —

"Are you going to give me the trouble of finding out
where I have met you, rascal? Come, tell me at once;
you must remember.'*

"And why should I remember better than you, mon-
seigneur?" not being able to resist the temptation of ad-
dressing a question in his turn to the constable.

"Because," replied the old soldier, "you see a constable
of France by chance once in your life, while I see every day
a heap of rogues like you."

' ' You are correct, monseigneur, ' ' replied Yvonnet.
"Well, you saw me in presence of the king."

"What!" said the constable ; "in presence of the king?
You visit the king, then, villain?"

"I have done so at least on the day I had the honor
of seeing you there, M. le Connetable, ' ' answered Yvonnet,
with the most exquisite politeness.

' ' Hum ! ' ' muttered the constable. ' ' In fact, I remember ;
you were with a young officer whom my nephew sent to
the king."

41 With M. de Theligny."

"That's so, " said the constable. "And are things going
on all right yonder ?"

"On the contrary, M. le Connetable, things are going all
wrong."

"How all wrong? Take care of what you say, rascal!'

"I am about to say the truth, monseigneur. The day
before yesterday we had, after a sortie at the Faubourg
d'Isle, about sixty men placed Jwrs de combat. Yesterday,
in trying to carry a Spanish position in front of the Ke'mi-
court gate, we lost fifteen troopers of the Dauphin's Com-
pany and their lieutenant, M. de Theligny—

320 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"Theligny!" interrupted the constable, who believed
himself invulnerable, after surviving so many engage-
ments, battles and skirmishes. "Theligny let himself be
killed? The fool! What next?"

"The next, M. le Connetable, is a letter from M. 1'Ami-
ral, asking speedy succor. ' '

"You should have begun with that, knave!" said the
constable, tearing the letter out of the hand of the ad-
venturer.

And he read it, all the time interrupting himself to give
orders, as was his habit —

" 'I shall hold the Faubourg d'Isle as long as I can — '

"And he will do well, mordieu! Some one send me
M. Dandelot!

" ' — for from the heights of the faubourg a battery of
artillery can sweep the Remicourt rampart its entire length,
from the Tower a 1'Eau to the Red Tower.'

"Tell Marechal de Saint- Andre to come here!

" 'But in order to defend the Faubourg d'Isle and the
other points threatened, I shall need a reinforcement of two
thousand men at least, having in reality but five or six
hundred under my orders.'

"Corbleuf he must have four thousand! I wish to see
the Due d'Enghien at once! By what right do these gen-
tlemen sleep when I am awake? M. d'Enghien immedi-
ately! Let us see what my nephew has to say further!

" 'I have only sixteen pieces of cannon and forty can-
noniers; I have only fifty or sixty arquebuses; finally, I
have only ammunition for a fortnight and provisions for
three weeks.'

"How! is all this true?" cried the constable.

"The exact truth every word, monseigneur, " replied
Yvonnet, graciously.

"Indeed! I should like to see a scoundrel of your kind
give the lie to my nephew. Hum ! ' '

And the constable glared ferociously on Yvonnet.

Yvonnet bowed and took a step backward.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 321

"Why do you step back?" asked the constable.

"Because I think monseigneur has no more questions to
ask me. ' '

" You are mistaken. Come here!"

Yvonnet resumed his place.

"How do the bourgeois conduct themselves?" asked the
constable.

' ' Most excellently, monseigneur. ' '

"The rascals! I should like to see them do other-
wise!"

' ' Even the very monks have taken up arms. ' '

"The hypocrites! And you say they fight?"

"Like lions. And as to the women, monseigneur — "

"They whine and weep and tremble, eh? It is all the
jades are good for. ' '

"On the contrary, monseigneur, they encourage the com-
batants, nurse the wounded, and bury the dead. ' '

"The trollops!"

At this moment the door opened, and a gentleman all
armed, except his head, which was covered with a velvet
cap, made his appearance on the threshold.

"Ah, come here, M. Dandelot!" said the constable.
"Here is your brother making such an outcry in his city
of Saint- Quentin that one would think somebody was going
to cut his throat. ' '

"Monseigneur," said M. Dandelot, laughing, "if your
nephew, my brother, is making such an outcry, you know
him well enough to be sure it is not from fear. ' '

"Oh, yes, morbleuf I know something is wrong, and
that's what annoys me. So I have summoned you and M.
le Marechal de Saint- Andre. "

"Here I am, monseigneur," interrupted the marshal,
appearing in turn at the entrance to the room.

"Good, good, marshal; but M. d'Enghien is apparently
not coming. ' '

"Excuse me, monseigneur," said the duke, entering;

"here I am."

322 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

"Tripes et boyaux, messieurs!" said the constable, hurl-
ing his rough oath the more violently at them because, as
all seemed to be performing their duty, he had no excuse
for gratifying the habitual ill- humor that formed the basis
of his character; "tripes et boyaux, gentlemen, we are not
in Capua, to sleep as if nothing was the matter!"

' ' The accusation does not touch me, ' ' said the marshal,
"for I have been up already."

"And I," said the Dae d'Enghien, "have not yet been
to bed."

"No; I was speaking of M. Dandelot."

"Of me!" said Dandelot; "pardon me, monseigneur; I
have been making the rounds, and have been here before
these gentlemen. I was on horseback when I met them,
and have come here on horseback."

"Then I suppose I must be speaking of myself," said
Montmorency. "It seems I am now old and good for
nothing, since I am the only one who has been in bed.
Tete et sang!"

"But, constable," returned Dandelot, laughing, "who
the devil has said such a thing?"

"No one, I hope; for I would break his jaw, as I broke
the jaw of that ill-omened prophet I met on the highway
the other day. But we have something else to attend to.
We have to see how we can help this poor Coligny who has
fifty thousand men pegging away at him. Fifty thousand
men ! What do you say to it ? In my opinion, my nephew
is afraid and sees double. ' '

The three officers smiled at the same time and with the
same expression.

' ' If my brother says fifty thousand men, ' ' said Dandelot,
"there are fifty thousand men, monseigneur."

' ' And more likely sixty thousand than fifty thousand, ' '
said the marshal.

"And what do you think, M. d'Enghien?"

"Of course the same as those gentlemen do, M. le Con-
netable."

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 323

"Then you are as usual of an opinion directly opposed
to mine?"

"No, monseigneur, " replied Dandelot; "but we are of
the opinion that the admiral tells the truth."

"Well, are you ready to run some risk to help the
admiral?"

"I am ready to risk my life," answered Dandelot.

"And we also," replied the Marechal de Saint- Andre
and the Due d'Enghien in the same tone.

' ' Then all is well, ' ' said the constable.

After this, turning round toward the antechamber, in
which there was a great noise —

"Oorbleuf" he exclaimed, "where does all that racket
come from ?"

"Monseigneur," said one of the sub-officers of the guard,
"it is a man who has just been arrested at the gate of
Ham."

"Off with him to prison, then!"

"It is thought he is a soldier disguised as a peasant."

"Have him hanged!"

"But he appeals to M. 1'Amiral, and says he has come
from him. ' '

"Has he a letter or safe- conduct?"

' ' No, and that is why we thought he might be a spy. ' '

"Let him be broken on the wheel!"

"An instant!" cried a voice in the antechamber; "even
M. le Connetable cannot break people on the wheel in that
fashion. ' '

And after some clamor and a noise indicating there had
been a struggle, a man rushed from the antechamber into
the room.

"Ah!" cried Yvonnet, "take care of what you do, mon-
seigneur ; it is Maldent. ' '

"Maldent; what has that to do with it?" asked the
constable.

"It is the second messenger sent by M. 1'Amiral, and
who, having set out from Saint- Quentin at the same time

324 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

as I, arrives naturally two hours after me, having come
by Ham."

And in fact it was Maldent, who, not finding the con-
stable at Ham, had taken a horse and galloped to La Fere,
fearing that some obstacle might have stopped Yvonnet on
the road.

Now how was it that Maldent, who had started dressed
as a soldier, and with a letter from the admiral, arrived
dressed as a peasant and without a letter ? It is a problem
which our readers, with their customary perspicacity, will
be able to solve in one of the following chapters.

XII

THE ESCALADE

LET our readers not be surprised at seeing us follow,
with a minuteness belonging to the historian rather
than to the romancer, all the details, every point
in the attack and defence, of that glorious siege of Saint-
Quentin — a siege equally glorious for besieger and besieged.

Moreover, in our opinion, the glory of a country is made
up of its defeats quite as much as of its victories; the glory
of our triumphs is enhanced by that of our reverses.

What people, in fact, would not have succumbed after
Crecy, Poitiers, Agincourt, Pa via, Saint- Quentin, or Water-
loo ? But the hand of God was over France, and after each
fall France rose greater than she was before.

It was after bending eight times under his cross that
Jesus saved the world.

France, under this relation, may be considered, if we are
permitted to say so, the Christ of nations.

Saint- Quentin is nevertheless one of the stations on her
way of the cross.

Her cross was the monarchy.

Happily behind the monarchy was the people.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 325

This time again, behind the fallen monarchy, we are
about to see the people standing.

During the night following the departure of Yvonnet
and Maldent, the admiral was warned that the sentinels
mounting guard at the Faubourg d'Isle believed they heard
the sound of sappers at work.

Coligny rose and ran to the threatened point.

The admiral was an experienced captain. He leaped
from his horse, lay down on the rampart, placed his ear to
the ground, and listened.

Then, rising —

"It is not," he said, "the noise of sappers; it is the roll-
ing of cannon. The enemy is about to erect a battery
against us."

The officers looked at one another.

Then Jarnac advanced and said —

"You know, M. 1'Amiral, that it is the opinion of every
one the place is not tenable ?"

The admiral smiled.

"It is mine also, gentlemen," said he; "and yet, you
see, we have held it for the last five days. If, when urged
by you, I had retreated, the Faubourg d'Isle would have
been in the hands of the Spaniards for the last five days,
and all their preparations for attacking the city on this side
completed. Now let us not forget this, gentlemen: every
day gained is as useful to us as are the last breathing spells
to the stag pursued by the hunters. ' '

"Then your opinion is, monseigneur ?"

' ' My opinion is that we have done on this side all that it
is humanly possible to do, and that we must carry in another
direction our energy, devotion, and vigilance.

The officers acquiesced with a bow.

"At daybreak," continued Coligny, "the Spanish can-
non will be formed in battery, and the firing will begin; at
daybreak, therefore, all the artillery we have here, as well
as all the ammunition, balls, bales of wool, carts, hand-
barrows, pickaxes, and pioneers' tools, must be in the city.

326 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

One part of our men will attend to this; another will pile
up fagots and fascines in the houses, and set them on fire;
I shall myself protect the retreat of our soldiers and cut the
bridges behind them. ' '

Then when he saw around him the poor unfortunates
to whom these houses belonged, and who were listening to
him with an expression of despair —

"My friends," said he, "if your ^houses were spared by
us, they would be demolished by the Spaniards, who would
use the wood and stone for constructing masks and digging
their trenches ; sacrifice them, therefore, in the name of your
king and country. I assign to you the task of setting them
on fire. ' '

The inhabitants of the Faubourg d'Isle looked at one
another, exchanged some words in a low tone, and one of
them, advancing, said —

"M. 1'Amiral, my name is Gruillaume Pauquet; you see
my house from here. It is the largest in the quarter. I
shall set fire to it with my own hands; and my neighbors
and friends, here present, are prepared to do to theirs what
I am about to do to mine. ' '

"Is this true, my children ?" said the admiral, with tears
in his eyes.

"Is what you demand for the good of the king and
country, M. 1'Amiral?"

"If we can only hold out for a fortnight, my friends,
France is saved!" said Coligny.

' ' And to hold out even for ten days, must we burn our
houses ?"

' ' I believe, my friends, it is necessary. ' '

"Then, if the houses are burned, you promise to hold
out for ten days?"

"I promise, my friends, to do all that a gentleman de-
voted to my king and country can do, ' ' said the admiral.
"Whoever speaks of surrender shall be thrown over the
walls by me; and if I speak of surrender, do the same
to me."

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 327

"It is well, M. 1'Amiral,!' said one of the inhabitants
of the faubourg ; ' ' since you order us to burn our houses,
we are going to set them on fire."

"But, " said a voice, "I hope the abbey of Saint- Quentin-
en-Isle may be spared."

The admiral turned in the direction of the voice, and
recognized Lactance.

" Saint- Quentin-en-Isle less than all the rest," answered
the admiral. "The rampart of Kemicourt is commanded
from the platform of Saint-Quentin-en-Isle; and a battery
of cannon established there would render the defence of
the rampart impossible."

Lactance raised his eyes to heaven, and heaved a pro-
found sigh.

"Besides," continued the admiral, smiling. "Saint-
Quentin is, above all, guardian of the city, and he will
not take umbrage at our ruining his abbey to save his
clients."

Then, taking advantage of this moment of goodwill
which seemed to inspire all and each with the same devo-
tion, he ordered the cannon to be drawn to the city, as well
as the different objects mentioned by him, and everything
to be done in the greatest possible silence.

This work was begun with as much zeal, it must be
said, as was displayed by those carrying fascines into their
houses; men harnessed themselves cheerfully and coura-
geously to the cannon and carts, and set to work hauling
them into the city.

At two in the morning all was finished; and there re-
mained behind the old wall only the number of arquebusiers
necessary to deceive the enemy into the belief that it was
still defended, and the men who, with torch in hand, were
ready to set fire to their houses.

At daybreak, as the admiral had foreseen, the enemy
fired the first volley. A breaching battery had been estab-
lished during the night, and it was the noise made by the
men forming it the admiral had heard.

328 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

*

This first volley was the signal agreed on for setting fire
to the houses. Not one of the inhabitants hesitated; each
applied his torch, and in a moment a curtain of smoke rose
in the sky, soon to be succeeded by a curtain of flame.

The faubourg was burning from the church of Saint-Eloi
to the church of Saint- Pierre- au- Canal; but in the midst of
this immense furnace, the abbey of Saint- Quentin remained
intact, as if some superhuman power had turned the con-
flagration aside from it.

Three times did citizens and soldiers and workmen,
through fire, and over the flying bridges — for the others
had been cut down — renew the attempt to destroy it, and
three times did the attempt fail.

The admiral from the top of the gate of Isle was watch-
ing the progress of the flames, when Jean Pauquet, sepa-
rating from those around him and approaching the admiral
with his woollen cap in his hand, said —

' ' Monseigneur, an old man of the city says he has heard
his father tell of a storehouse of powder existing in one of
the two towers flanking the gate of Isle, if not in both. ' '

"Good!" said the admiral, "we must see to this. Where
are the keys?"

"Ah, the keys!" said Jean Pauquet, "who can know
anything about them? The doors have not been opened
for the last hundred years, perhaps."

' ' Then we must get levers and crowbars to open them. ' '

"They are not needed," said a voice; "let me drive
against the door, and the door will open."

And Heinrich Scharfenstein, followed by his nephew
Franz, advanced three steps toward Coligny.

"Ah, it is you, my brave giant?" said the admiral.

"Yes, I and my nephew Franz."

"Well, push, my friend! push!" And the two Scharf-
ensteins approached each a folding- door, buttressed him-
self against it, and with the same mechanical action and
the same movement, counted:

"Mn! zwei! dreif"

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 329

And at the word drei, each, making a mighty effort,
drove in the leaf he was planted against, and so success-
fully that each fell with it.

. Only as the resistance offered by the doors was different,
Franz fell headlong his whole length, while Heinrich was
lucky enough to fall on his hips.

But both rose up with their customary gravity, saying —

"Now!"

They entered the towers.

One of them, as Jean Pauquet had stated, did in fact
contain two or three thousand pounds of powder; but, as
he had also said, this powder had been there so long that
when the kegs were lifted they fell into dust.

The admiral then ordered sheets to be brought and the
powder to be transported to the arsenal.

As soon as he saw the order was being executed, he re-
turned to breakfast and to get a little rest, having been on
his feet since midnight, and eaten nothing since the evening
before.

He had just sat down to table when it was announced
that one of the messengers sent by him to the constable had
returned and asked to speak to him without delay.

It was Yvonnet.

Yvonnet announced that the succors demanded by him
would arrive the next day, under the command of M. Dan-
delot, Marechal de Saint- Andre and the Due d'Enghien.

They were to consist of four thousand foot-soldiers, who
would follow the Savy route, as the admiral suggested, and
enter by the Faubourg de Ponthoille.

Maldent had remained at La Fere to act as guide to
M. Dandelot.

Yvonnet was at this stage of his recital and had raised
a glass of wine poured out for him to drink to the health of
the admiral, when all at once the earth trembled, the walls
shook, the glass of the windows flew in pieces, and a roar
was heard like that of a hundred pieces of cannon dis-
charged at the same time.

330 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

The admiral rose; Yvonnet, seized with one of his
nervous movements, rested his glass, still full, on the table.

At the same time a cloud passed over the city, borne by
the west wind, and a strong stench of sulphur spread into
the room through the broken glass.

"Oh, the unhappy men!" cried the admiral; "they did
not take the proper precautions, and the powder has
blown up!"

Immediately, without waiting for news, he left the
house and ran to the gate of Isle.

All the population was hurrying to the same quarter;
it was useless for Coligny to make inquiries ; these people
were hurrying in the direction of the noise, but were igno-
rant of its cause.

Coligny was not mistaken ; the interior of the tower was
gutted and smoking like the crater of a volcano. A spark
from the immense conflagration in the neighborhood had
entered through an embrasure, and set fire to the terrible
combustible.

Forty or fifty persons had perished ; five officers had
disappeared.

The tower offered a breach to the enemy by which
twenty -five assailants could mount in a line.

Fortunately, the veil of smoke and flame between the
faubourg and city concealed this breach from the Span-
iards. The devotion of the inhabitants, who had set fire
to their houses, had then saved the city.

Coligny understood the danger: he appealed to the good-
will of all ; but the bourgeois alone responded. The soldiers
who had been withdrawn from the faubourg had gone away
to rest and refresh themselves.

Among those who had done so. were the two Scharf en-
steins ; but as their tent was only about fifty yards from the
theatre of the event, they were among the first to answer
the appeal of the admiral.

Two precious auxiliaries were uncle Heinrich and nephew
Franz under the circumstances; their herculean strength,

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 331

their gigantic stature, made them fit for everything. They
took off their jackets, turned up their sleeves, and became
masons.

Three hours after, whether it were that the enemy knew
nothing of what had occurred or was preparing another en-
terprise, the tower was repaired without any opposition and
rendered almost as solid as before.

All that day — it was the 7th of August — passed without
the enemy making the slightest demonstration; he seemed
to confine himself to a simple blockade. Without doubt, he
was awaiting the arrival of the English army.

During the evening, the sentinels noticed some move-
ment in the direction of the Faubourg d'Isle.

The Spaniards of Carondelet and Julian Eomeron, taking
advantage of the dying out of the conflagration, were begin-
ning to appear in the faubourg and draw near the city.

Thereupon all the watchfulness of the besieged was exer-
cised on that side.

In the evening at ten, the admiral called a council of the
chief officers of the garrison; he announced that the ex-
pected reinforcement would, in all probability, arrive that
night. The wall must be secretly manned from Tourival to
the gate of Ponthoille, in order to hold themselves in readi-
ness to bring aid, if necessary, to Dandelot and his men.

Yvonnet, who, in his capacity as messenger, had been ini-
tiated into all these arrangements, was delighted with them,
and as far as lay in his power — for his peculiar knowledge
of certain localities gave him considerable influence — he
pushed his nocturnal investigations in the direction of the
Remicourt, Isle and Ponthoille gates.

This new disposition, in fact, left the rampart of the
Yieux-Marche entirely free from troops, except a few sen-
tinels; and it was there, as the reader will recall, that the
house of Jean Pauquet was situated, and especially the little
pavilion inhabited by Mademoiselle Guclule.

Consequently, about eleven, on one of those gloomy
nights so esteemed and blessed by lovers on the way to

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

their mistresses, and by warriors preparing a surprise, our
adventurer, followed by Heinrich and Franz, armed, like
him, to the teeth, was advancing cautiously through the
Rue des Hosiers, de la Fosse, and de Saint-Jean, which lat-
ter connects — at about a hundred yards from the tower
Dameuse — with the rampart of the Yieux-Marche.

The three adventurers followed this road because they
knew all the space extending between the tower Dameuse
and the gate of the Yieux-Marche was free from sentinels,
the enemy not having yet made 'any demonstration on this side.

The boulevard was therefore gloomy and deserted.

Why was this band, which, in spite of its formidable
appearance, had not any hostile appearance, composed of
Heinrich and Franz on the one side and of Yvonnet
on the other?

By that natural law which decrees that in this world
weakness must seek strength, and strength must love
weakness.

With whom, among his eight companions, was Yvonnet
most closely united? With Heinrich and Franz. Why?
Because they were the strongest, and he was the weakest.

As soon as the two Scharfensteins had a moment to
themselves, whose society did they run to seek?

Yvonnet 's.

Consequently, when Yvonnet needed help, whose help
did he seek ?

That of the two Scharfensteins.

Under his garb, always so carefully attended to, always
so elegant and dainty, and contrasting so strangely with the
rough, soldierly dress of the two giants, Yvonnet, when fol-
lowed by them, resembled some aristocratic child holding
two mastiffs in leash.

It was, as we have said, because of this attraction of
weakness for strength, and this sympathy of strength for
weakness, that on this very evening, Yvonnet asked the two
Scharfensteins to come along with him, and that the latter,
as usual, answered, as they rose and armed themselves —

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 333

1 ' Very willingly, Meinherr Yvonnet. ' '

For the two Scharfensteins addressed Yvonnet as Mein-
herr—& distinction they did not grant to any other of their
companions.

It was because their affection for Yvonnet was mingled
with a profound respect.

Never did uncle or nephew presume to speak first in the
presence of the young adventurer; no, they heard him talk
of fine women, fine arms, fine dress, satisfied to give a nod
of assent, or breaking into one of their big laughs, when an
evident witticism claimed such attention.

Where Yvonnet was going when Yvonnet said, "Come
with me!" concerned them little; he said, "Come!" that
was enough, and they followed this charming star of their
fancy as satellites follow a planet.

This evening, Yvonnet was going to his mistress ; he had
said to the two Scharfensteins, "Come!" and, as we see,
they came.

But with what object, since the presence of a third party
at such a rendezvous is always annoying, did Yvonnet ask
for the company of the two giants ?

In the first place, let us hasten to say that the brave
Grermans were not troublesome witnesses. They closed one
eye, they closed two, they closed three, they closed four, on
a word, a sign, a gesture from their comrade, and kept
them religiously closed until a word, a sign, or a gesture
of their comrade allowed them to open them.

Yvonnet brought them with him because, it will be re-
membered, to reach the window of Grudule's pavilion he
needed a ladder; and, instead of taking a ladder, he found
it simpler to take the two Scharfensteins, which absolutely
amounted to the same thing.

The young man had, as may be imagined, a collection of
signals, sounds and cries, by the aid of which he announced
his arrival to his mistress ; but this evening he needed not
signal nor sound nor cry — Ghidule was at her window, ex-
pecting him.

384 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Nevertheless, when she saw three men coming instead of
one, she prudently retreated.

But when Yvonnet separated from his companions, he
was recognized; and the young girl, still trembling, but
no longer frightened, came back to the window.

Yvonnet explained in two words the danger a soldier
ran in a besieged city walking with a ladder on his back;
a patrol might believe he carried the ladder with the view
of communicating with the besiegers. Once such a belief
settled in the mind of the patrol, it would be necessary to
have explanations with the patrol's officer, with the captain,
perhaps with the governor, and account for the destination
of the ladder; now, however delicately these explanations
might be managed, the honor of Mademoiselle Gudule
would be compromised.

It was better, then, to bring two sure friends, on whose
discretion he could rely, like his two comrades.

But how would these friends take the place of a ladder ?
This Mademoiselle Gudule had some trouble in understanding.

Yvonnet resolved to lose no time in developing his
theory, but to proceed at once to a demonstration. With
this object, he called the two Scharfensteins, who, open-
ing the immense compass of their legs, were beside him
in three strides.

Then he backed up the uncle against the wall, and made
a sign to the nephew.

In less time than it takes to relate it, Franz placed one
foot between the joined hands of his uncle and another on
his shoulder; then, having reached the top of the window,
he took Mademoiselle Gudule by the waist, she regarding
him with much curiosity all the time ; and before she could
make a motion to defend herself — a motion she would per-
haps not have made, even if she had time for it — she found
herself borne from her chamber and placed on the boulevard
beside Yvonnet.

"There," said Franz, laughing, "there you have the
young woman you asked for."

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 335

"Thanks," said Yvonnet.

And, drawing the arm of the young woman within his
own, he led her to the obscurest part of the rampart.

This was the circular summit of one of the towers, and
protected by a parapet three feet high.

The two Scharfensteins sat down on a stone bench lying
along the curtain.

It is not our intention to relate here the conversation of
Mademoiselle G-udule and Yvonnet. They were young, and
in love ; they had not met for three nights and three days,
and had so much to say that a report of their quarter of an
hour's discourse would certainly exceed the limits of this
chapter.

We say a quarter of an hour's, because at the end of a
quarter of an hour, notwithstanding the animation of the
dialogue, Yvonnet suddenly stopped, placed his hand on
the pretty mouth of the young girl, leaned forward, and
listened.

A sound like that made by the steady tramp of a great
number of feet on the turf seemed to come to his ear as
he listened.

Looking forward, he thought he saw an immense black
serpent creeping up to the wall.

But the night was so dark and the noise so imperceptible
that all this might be an illusion as well as a reality, espe-
cially as the sound and movement suddenly stopped.

Yvonnet looked and listened, but neither saw nor heard
anything more.

Yet while holding the young girl clasped to his breast,
he kept his eyes eagerly fixed on the point to which they
were first directed, and stretched his neck out between the
battlements.

Soon he thought he saw the gigantic serpent raise its
head against the gray wall, and rise along this wall, as if
jio reach the parapet of the curtain.

Then, like a hydra-headed monster, the serpent darted
)ui a second head near the first, and a third near the second.

386 THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY

Upon this all became clear to Yvonnet; without losing
a minute, he took Gudule in his arms, and, recommending
her to be silent, passed her to Franz, who, with the aid of
his uncle, restored her to her chamber in the same manner
in which she had been carried out of it.

Then, running to the nearest ladder, the young man
reached it just as the first Spaniard stood upon the parapet
of the curtain.

Great as was the darkness, a gleam of light could be seen
through the shadow; next a cry was heard, and the Span-
iard, pierced by the slender sword of Yvonnet, fell backward
from the wall.

The noise of his fall was lost in a frightful crash ; it was
the second ladder laden with men, which, hurled back by
the sinewy arm of Heinrich, tore along the wall with a
hoarse, grating sound.

On his side, Franz discovered an abandoned beam in his
path; and, raising it above his head, he let it fall on the
very centre of the third ladder.

The ladder was broken at a place above two-thirds of its
height from the ground; and men, ladder, and beam were
pitched pellmell into the fosse.

Meanwhile Yvonnet, while striking with all his might,
was at the same time shouting as loudly as he could —

"To arms! to arms!"

The two Scharfensteins ran to his aid, at the very mo-
ment two or three Spaniards had set foot on the rampart
and were pressing him closely.

One . of the assailants fell cloven by the enormous sword
of Heinrich; another rolled senseless under the mace of
Franz; the other, as he was making ready to strike
Yvonnet, was seized by the waist by one of the two
giants, and hurled over the wall.

At the same moment Jean and Guillaume Pauquet ap-
peared at the extremity of the Kue du Vieux-Marche,
attracted by the cries of the three adventurers, and bear-
ing each a torch in one hand and an axe in the other.

THE PAGE OF THE DUKE OF SAVOY 387

From that moment the surprise was a failure; and in
response to the united cries of the bourgeois and the adven-
turers, succors arrived both from the Saint- Jean tower and
the big tower bordering on the Faubourg Ponthoille.

Then at the same time, and as if all these attacks had
been part of one general movement, and arranged to break
out together, the detonation of a thousand arquebuses was
heard half a league away in the plain, in the direction of
Savy, behind the chapel of Epargnemaille ; and between
the earth and the sky arose that reddish cloud which hov-
ers above a lively fusillade.

The two enterprises — that of the Spaniards to surprise the
city, and that of Dandelot to succor it — had both failed.

We have seen how chance caused the failure of that of
the Spaniards; we must now tell how this same chance
caused the failure of that of the French.

"THE PAGE OP THE DUKE OP SAVOY"
END OP PART ONE

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